Czytaj książkę: «The Amish Widow's Heart»

Chapter One

Bethany Esch looked at her husband’s black jackets, hanging from the wooden pegs on the bedroom wall, and her heart failed her. She took a hasty step backward, bumping into the large box her cousin Lydia was carrying, and fought the panic that filled her.

Lydia dropped the box onto the double bed, catching Bethany’s arm when she would have fled from the room, her lively face sobering when she saw Bethany’s expression.

“Beth?” Lydia shook her arm lightly. “Komm now. It’s time we got busy.”

“No, I can’t. It’s too soon.”

Lydia knew her so well. Why didn’t she see that Bethany couldn’t get rid of James’s clothes? Not yet.

“It’s been over a month.” Lydia hugged her as if to soften the words, but nothing could really ease them. James was gone.

“I know it’s hard, but you’ll feel better once it’s done, and James’s things will be a blessing to someone else.”

The tears that came so easily filled Beth’s eyes. “It doesn’t feel like a month. It feels like yesterday.”

She lived it again—the township police officer coming to the door late in the evening, his face somber, his voice halting as he described the accident: the Englisch driver going too fast on the narrow road, young and careless, unable to stop when he saw the buggy light.

“I know.” Lydia’s hand stroked her back in a comforting gesture. “The accident was such a shock. That makes it much worse. But...”

Beth wiped tears away with her fingers. Lydia was right, she supposed. James’s death would be easier to face once she didn’t have constant reminders. Easier for Benjy, too, and that was the force that strengthened her spine. At four, Benjy didn’t understand, but he was beginning to accept the fact that Daadi wouldn’t be coming home anymore.

She could hear him now, giggling at something her niece Janie had said. Fourteen and the child of Beth’s oldest brother, Janie had been a treasure over the past month, showing up often to watch Benjy or take him to play with her little brothers and sister.

“Yah, okay.” She straightened, trying to find a smile. “You’re right. I certain sure can’t let Benjamin see me falling apart.”

“Gut.” Lydia gave a brisk nod of approval. “The sooner we start, the sooner we’re done. You hand things to me, and I’ll fold and pack.”

Taking the first jacket from its hook was the hardest. This was the jacket James wore for worship, and she’d always thought he looked so handsome in it, his fair hair even lighter against the black wool. She forced herself to hand it on quickly, resisting the urge to press it against her face.

Somehow, once she’d done the first one, the action became easier. She was helped along by Lydia’s constant flow of chatter, talking about the latest news running through the Amish grapevine of Lost Creek—who was harvesting a big crop of celery, hinting at a wedding soon, how her daad’s vegetable stand was doing now that fall was coming on, who had missed worship last Sunday and why. Lydia, with her lively personality and ready laugh, was a good antidote to pain.

“Did I tell you I have a letter from Miriam?” she said now. “She actually got it out quickly this time. I’ve already added my share, so you can do yours and put it in the mail.”

“I’ll try,” she said, although writing a newsy letter felt like an impossible chore just now.

Miriam Stoltzfus, the third of their trio of cousins, had moved out to Ohio to stay with an aunt and uncle several months ago, and they both missed her. Their round-robin letters weren’t a good substitute for seeing her.

The three of them had been closer than sisters since they were babies sleeping on their mammis’ laps during worship, born within weeks of each other. Better than sisters, maybe, because they didn’t have the rivalry some sisters did: Lydia, lively and mischievous; Miriam, quick and daring; and her, always trying to keep the other two out of trouble.

“You know what Grossmammi would say,” Lydia said. “Don’t try, just do it.”

Beth actually did smile over that—Lydia had caught their grandmother’s attitude perfectly. Grossmammi never shrank from any task, no matter how difficult. She had shrunk with age, and her memory might be a little misty, but nothing could quench her spirit. Would Beth ever reach that calm acceptance of what came?

With the hanging clothes packed away, Beth turned to the bureau. It was easier, she found, if she picked things up without concentrating too much on what they were and just passed them on to Lydia. The very act of doing something positive seemed to be lifting her spirits, making her pay attention to what was going on around her.

Family and church members had been in and out constantly for the past month, taking over so much that there’d been little she had to do. And Daniel, James’s partner in the general store, had taken care of everything there. She was better for something to do.

At some point she had to talk to Daniel and make some decisions about the store, but not yet.

She reached for the last few items in the drawer, her fingers touching something that wasn’t cloth. Paper crinkled under her fingers.

Curious, she pulled it out of the drawer to look at. A half sheet of paper, torn off and folded. Frowning, she flipped it open, read the few words it contained and felt her heart freeze.

Beth stared at the penciled words, trying to comprehend, but her brain felt as chilled as her heart. She forced herself to concentrate, reading the words as slowly as if they were in a language she barely knew.

I have to see you one more time. Meet me tomorrow night at the usual place. Please. Don’t fail me.

There was no signature, only a penciled heart shape. No name. No date. But the meaning was clear, wasn’t it?

“Beth? What’s wrong? Tell me.” Lydia’s arms came around her, and she sounded almost frightened. Beth knew she must look terrible. As terrible as she felt.

“I can’t.” She stammered the words out and thrust the paper toward Lydia, glad to have it out of her hand. She clung to a faint hope that Lydia would see something different in the words...something that wouldn’t shatter her heart and grind it to dust.

Lydia gasped, and then she was silent, probably trying to take it in as Beth had done.

“Maybe...” Lydia was hesitant, her blue eyes dark and troubled. “Maybe it doesn’t mean what it seems to.”

She didn’t sound as if she believed that any more than Beth did.

“What else could it mean?” Anger and pain broke through the ice that encased her. “Someone...some woman...was meeting James on the sly. The usual place—what else could that mean?”

“Maybe...” Lydia faltered, clearly trying to think of some explanation that wouldn’t hurt as much. “Well, maybe it was just someone who had a crush on James. He was attractive, and he could be charming, but it didn’t mean anything. You were the one he loved.”

She clung to the words. That was true enough, she supposed. James’s charm had been what had drawn her to him, back when they were teenagers. With his laughing eyes and his enticing smile, he’d had all the girls in a tizzy at one time or another. But he’d chosen her. He’d married her, promising to be faithful.

Something in her hardened against the pain and grief that threatened to envelop her. He’d promised to be faithful in front of God and the church.

“He was meeting this woman, whoever she was,” she said firmly. She couldn’t ignore the obvious. “That’s not an old note—the pencil marks are still dark. Besides, I cleaned everything in this drawer not that long ago.”

Her mind started to work again, remembering when that had been. Her gaze met Lydia’s. “That was no more than a week before the accident. That note wasn’t in the drawer then.”

Lydia didn’t speak. Most likely she couldn’t think of another explanation, any more than Beth could. James had been seeing another woman just before he died. It was incredible. Impossible. But it had happened.

“That night,” Beth murmured, almost speaking to herself. “He said he’d be working late in the store. What was he doing out on Owl Hollow Road? I never even thought about that...never questioned it.”

“You think it was the night the note refers to?” Lydia understood her quickly. “But you can’t be sure of that. And you can’t go around asking people.” She sounded horrified at the thought.

“No, I can’t go around asking.” Pain forced the words out as she realized what this would mean for her. “I can only go on wearing black and pretending. No one must ever know, especially not Benjy.”

No matter what she felt, she couldn’t damage Benjy’s memory of his daadi. No matter how much it cost her.

But there was one thing she could do. She could find out if Daniel knew where James had gone the night he was supposed to be working at the store. Daniel was James’s best friend as well as his partner. If anyone knew James’s secret, it was Daniel.

Daniel Miller turned from restocking the canned goods shelf to check the time. The plain round clock on the back wall of the store showed nearly four. Since they closed at five, business should be quiet for the next hour. Time for him to make the visit he’d been putting off for weeks—a visit to Bethany, James’s widow.

He still couldn’t get used to that word. Widow. They were too young to be experiencing this—it was for old people. If it affected him that way, how much harder must Beth be finding it?

Shaking off the question, he rounded the end of the shelves and approached the cash register, where Anna Fisher was taking advantage of their lack of customers to clean the glass-fronted cabinet.

“Anna?”

She glanced up, her round, youthful face responding. “Yah? Something you want me to do, Daniel?”

“Just keep an eye on things for me. I have to run an errand.” He smiled, nodding toward the battery section, where his nephew Timothy was replacing batteries in their proper bins. “And you might take a look at those shelves when Timothy finishes. Just in case.”

Anna nodded. Fourteen-year-old Timothy had been helping out for only a couple of weeks. They’d needed an extra pair of hands once James was gone.

Timothy was eager, but not always accurate. Still, Anna was responsible, not flighty like most sixteen-year-old girls, and she’d been working in the store for over a year.

“I’ll manage everything. Don’t worry.” She was obviously pleased at being left in charge, but a trace of apprehension showed. “You’ll be back to close up, yah?”

“For sure. No worries.”

He headed for the door, pausing a moment outside to admire, as always, the General Store sign. They had a good location—he and James had decided the lot between their two properties at the end of Main Street would be just right for the business that was just a dream six years ago.

They’d surmounted plenty of obstacles on the way to making the dream a reality. He’d just never thought he’d be carrying on alone, without James. Pain clenched his heart. James had been his best friend since they’d entered first grade at Creekside Amish School together.

Funny, when he stopped to think about it, that they had linked up so quickly. He was one of seven, growing up on the ninety-acre farm that spread out from the road to the ridge that overlooked the village of Lost Creek. He sometimes felt lost in the midst of siblings, and it had been startling to realize that James’s life was so different from his, even though they were part of the same church district.

James’s mother was a widow, and James her only child. They lived right in town, and at six, James had known little of the farm life that was so routine for Daniel. But still, they’d been best friends, and when James married Bethany and they bought her great-uncle’s holding and orchard, they became neighbors, as well.

The lane at the side of the store led back to Beth’s property. Daniel strode along, noticing the signs of autumn beginning to show in the yellowing fields and the bright plumes of the sumac bushes. The leaves hadn’t begun to turn yet, and the weather held sunny and warm, but the children were back in school and autumn was on the way. He could see the glint of red here and there in the apple orchard that covered the lower slopes beyond the farmhouse where Beth and little Benjamin now lived alone.

As usual, he felt a twinge at the thought of Beth. How would she manage without James? And just as important, what would she want to do about her share of the store?

He had his own ideas about that, that was for sure. He’d been Beth’s friend even longer than he’d known James, since she’d spent a lot of time at her great-uncle’s place. In fact, if she hadn’t caught James’s eye when she did, he might have been the one...

Well, there was no point in letting his thoughts stray in that direction. His task now was to do his best for Beth and her son.

As he neared the house, he caught sight of Benjy in the backyard, tossing a ball back and forth with Janie Stoltzfus, Beth’s niece. Instead of heading for the back door, he veered to join them.

“Looks like a gut game. Can I play, too?”

“Catch the ball, Daniel,” Benjy shouted, obviously pleased to have the game enlarged. With his silky straight blond hair and his round, chubby face, he still looked a little like the baby he’d been such a short time ago.

Would he have to grow up faster now that his daadi was gone? And at four, how much did Benjy actually realize about death? Daniel didn’t have any answers, but he knew that Beth would do her best to protect him. And he would, as well. He owed it to his friend.

Benjy tossed the ball short of Daniel, and he had to sprint forward to catch it.

“Benjy’s getting better all the time,” Janie said, laughter in her eyes.

Nodding, Daniel sent a soft underhand toss in Benjy’s direction. He put it right on target, and Benjy’s gratified surprise at catching it made him smile.

“I got it. Did you see, Janie? I caught it.”

“Yah, gut job,” Janie responded. “Now throw it to me.”

Benjy raised the ball to throw, dropped it and went scrambling after it. Daniel took advantage of the moment. “Is your aunt Bethany inside? I need to see her.”

“Yah. She was in the kitchen when we came out. Do you want me to go see?”

“That’s all right. I’ll find her.” With a wave, he headed for the house. He tapped lightly on the screen door and went into the mudroom, then on into the kitchen, calling out as he did.

Beth answered, sounding normal, but when she turned from the stove and Daniel saw her face, he was shocked. During the visiting and the funeral after James’s death, she’d seemed frozen, hardly aware of her surroundings. Now the ice that had encased her was gone, and he could read her loss too easily.

The gentleness had disappeared from her usually serene oval face, and her skin seemed shrunk against the bones, making her green eyes huge and tragic. Even her light brown hair had lost the curl she tried to suppress, straining back to the white kapp she wore.

He gathered his wits together and struggled to sound normal. “There’s a ball game going on in the backyard. Don’t you want to join it?”

Beth managed a smile at that, but it was a pitiful attempt. “Not just now. Can I do something for you, Daniel?”

“That’s my question. You know I’m here to help with anything you want.” He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “Can we sit down for a bit?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, coming to sit in the chair he’d pulled out while he took the one facing it. “How...how is everything at the store?”

There was nothing of interest in her voice. In fact, it seemed that all her attention was turned inward to something that obsessed her to the exclusion of everything else.

“Doing fine.” His voice sounded unnatural to him. “In fact, we need to talk about the store. I...” He stopped, shaking his head. “What’s wrong, Beth? We’re old friends, ain’t so? You can talk to me.”

A flash of something that might have been anger crossed her face and as quickly disappeared.

“Nothing.” Her voice was tart. She pressed her lips together for a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry. You were saying, about the store?”

“Yah.” He’d like to press the matter, because it seemed clear to him that even more was wrong than grief, but something told him it wouldn’t be welcomed. She was only a couple of feet away across the width of the table, but it might as well be miles.

“I wanted you to know that I’ve brought my nephew Timothy in to help out, now that James...” He stopped and started again. “We needed a little extra help. Anna’s a gut worker, but she’s young and needs direction.”

He took a breath, deciding he was going in the wrong direction. He didn’t want to pile problems on Beth, only keep her up-to-date on the store that was her livelihood.

“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know what was going on. Business is gut, and naturally your share remains the same.” He hesitated before going on with what he’d rehearsed saying.

“I thought you might want to be a little more involved now, since it’s your business, too. You could come in a few hours now and then, maybe. Or look over the books, if you want.”

She’d paid attention for a moment, but now he knew he’d lost her. She’d turned inward again, back to whatever it was that obsessed her. James’s death? Tragic as that was, he sensed there was something more going on.

He’d thought to assure her that the store was under control and possibly to interest her in taking a more active role. But that seemed to be the last thing on her mind.

“Beth.” He said her name gently, and after a moment her eyes focused on him. “It’s all right. I’ll keep on with the store the way I have been. I can see you don’t want to talk about it now.”

She nodded, putting one hand up to her forehead. “Not now,” she echoed. “We’ll talk later, yah?”

“Later.” He stood, disappointed in himself that he hadn’t found a way to help her. “Anything I can do, you know I will. I’ll see you later, then.”

But when he moved toward the door, Beth seemed to come back from wherever she’d been. “Daniel.”

He turned, eager to do something—anything—she needed.

“There’s something I need to ask you.” She hesitated, as if trying to arrange her thoughts, and he waited.

“That last night...the night of the accident.” She stopped, obviously struggling, but before he could say anything, she went on. “James said he was going to the store to do inventory.”

Now it was Daniel’s turn to collect his thoughts. Half-afraid of where she was going, he nodded. “Yah, that’s right.”

Beth had stood when he did, but now she leaned against the table, her hands planted on the top as if for support. She had always been slim as a young girl, despite having a child, but now she was almost gaunt.

“What took him away from the store? Why was he out on that road where the accident...”

She couldn’t finish it, and he had a moment to compose himself. He should have realized that at some point she’d ask that question. He should have prepared an answer. Did she suspect... No, that was impossible.

Well, he couldn’t lie to her, so maybe it was just as well he hadn’t known where James had gone that night. “I’m sorry, Beth, but I don’t know. We’d finished up, and he went outside ahead of me. I saw he had the buggy, but he was already driving out before I had a chance to say anything.”

That was the exact truth. What he’d thought...feared, even...he would keep to himself.

“You don’t know?” Her gaze was fixed on his face, her eyes enormous.

“I’m sorry.” He sought for some possibility. “We’d been talking about adding a few more crafts to the store. Maybe he was going to talk to someone about it.”

It sounded feeble, even to him. Why would James be doing that at eight o’clock in the evening?

But to his relief, Beth seemed satisfied. She nodded. Then, without a word, she turned back to the stove.

There was nothing more to say. He slipped out quietly.

It was all right, he assured himself. It had been a natural enough question for Beth to ask, once she’d gotten over the initial shock. There was no reason to think she suspected James of anything wrong.

He’d need to keep it that way. His loyalty to his friend, his deep longing to protect Beth and Benjy...everything combined to insist that whatever his suspicions, they should never be spoken.

By the time Mamm and Grossmammi arrived to take Janie home, Beth had managed to convince herself that she was calm. Unhappily, she was aware that her composure was like a thin sheet of ice, ready to shatter at the slightest breath. She forced a smile and went outside to greet her mother and grandmother. Grossmammi was already chatting with Janie and Benjy, which probably meant that she was having one of her good days, living in the present instead of the past.

“It’s gut to see you, Grossmammi.” She reached for the line to clip the harness to the hitching rail, but Janie got to it first. Benjy, very intent, helped her to latch it.

Her mother slid down, not waiting for a helping hand, and landed lightly on her feet. With her rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, she didn’t look like the mother of five.

They both reached up to help Grossmammi down. She pressed her cheek against Beth’s for a moment, but her attention was on her great-grandchildren.

“My, you two look as if you’ve been having a fine time. What have you been doing?”

“We played ball. Daniel did, too. And we gathered the eggs,” Benjy said. “I found three.”

“Gut job.” Grossmammi patted his cheek. “How many did Janie find?”

It was apparent that number was beyond him, so Janie helped him out, whispering the number in his ear.

“Eight,” he said proudly.

“We’ll have scrambled eggs for breakfast, ain’t so?” Bethany was pleased that she was able to sound almost normal. She glanced from her grandmother to her mother with a question in her face, but Mammi could only shrug, probably meaning it was hard to tell how long her grandmother would stay grounded.

Mammi lifted a basket down from under the buggy seat. “Who wants a whoopie pie?”

“Me, me!” Benjy bounced up and down, and Janie looked as if she would as well, if not for remembering that she was fourteen now.

“Let’s go in and fetch a napkin, and then you two can have yours out on the porch while Mammi gets us grown-ups a cup of coffee.”

Beth put an arm around her grandmother as they walked into the house together with Mammi following. It took only a few minutes to settle the kinder with juice and whoopie pies. Then the adults gathered at the table with their treat.

Grossmammi watched as she nibbled at the edge of hers. “Better eat it,” she said. “You’ve lost too much weight in the past month.”

“Yah.” She couldn’t deny it, since the bodice of her dress hung loose on her. “I don’t have much appetite.”

“Natural enough,” Mammi said. “But you must try. Take a real bite now.”

Beth obeyed, inhaling the scent of chocolate and savoring the sweet, creamy filling. To her surprise, it actually went down without sticking in her throat.

Grossmammi watched her with satisfaction, her face alert. Mammi had noticed the alertness, too, because she relaxed a bit.

Her grandmother focused on Beth’s face. “Now, tell us what has you upset today.”

Beth narrowly escaped biting her tongue. How did Grossmammi know? Still, when she was alert, there was no getting away from her.

“Nothing,” Beth said, hoping she sounded convincing. “I’m not upset.”

“Ach, Bethany, tell that to someone who doesn’t know you like we do.” Her mother joined in. “Komm now, tell us. Benjy said that Daniel Miller had been here. Did that upset you?”

“No, no, of course not. He just wanted to let me know about how things are at the store.” She hesitated. “Well, and talk about the future, but I... I wasn’t ready to do that. He might have waited.”

Mammi clucked her tongue. “That’s natural enough for him, ain’t so? After all, you are his partner now. He’ll want to know how things are going to change.”

“I suppose so.” She felt a flicker of resentment. She’d expected Mammi to be on her side. Not that there were any sides to it. She’d have to focus on business soon. Just not today. “Well, I can stop by the store sometime soon, but I don’t know much about running it. James always said I had enough to do with the orchard and the garden and Benjy to look after.”

“Yah, that’s so.” Mammi still studied her face. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can help with?”

First Daniel and now Mammi wanting to help. But they couldn’t, even if she told them, and she didn’t intend to do that.

“Nothing,” she said firmly.

Mammi rose. “I won’t tease you to tell me anything you’d rather not. Just remember we’re here, and there are lots of people who love you and want to help.”

Grossmammi reached out to touch Beth’s cheek. Her grandmother had experienced loss, she knew, and Grossmammi’s expression was tinged with sorrow as she looked at Beth. “And God is always ready to listen, ain’t so?”

Beth managed a nod, tears stinging her eyes. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to pray about this burden. Not now. Now she needed to be alone long enough to figure out how this had happened to her.

Chapter Two

Beth still had her grandmother’s words in her mind a few days later when she and Benjy walked up to the orchard together. Grossmammi’s advice was good, but Beth’s prayers seemed to bounce around until she wasn’t sure whether she was talking to the Lord or to herself. She prayed for acceptance, and in the next breath she was railing at James for his deception or wondering how she’d failed that he had turned away from her.

“Look, Mammi, look!” Benjy tugged her along, pointing. “Look at the red apples. Is it time to pick them?”

“Some of them.” She steered him away from the McIntosh. They wouldn’t be ready for a few more weeks. “Look at that tree. Those apples are called Honeycrisp. Some of them are ready to pick.”

Running ahead, Benjy threw his arms around the tree in a hug. He looked up into the branches, standing on tiptoe to reach a ripe apple. “Can I pick it? Can I, Mammi?”

“Yah, for sure. Let me show you how.” She closed her hand over his small one. “Twist it just a little while you pull gently. Like this.”

The apple came away in Benjy’s hand, and he held it up with a delighted smile. “I did it.”

Her heart swelled with love. “You did. See if you can reach some other ripe ones. I’ll hold that one.” She picked up the corners of her apron to form a makeshift basket.

Benjy darted off in search of others he could reach, and she picked a few more, inhaling the rich apple scent. It seemed to carry with it a score of memories—her little brothers vying to see how many they could pick, and Daniel, always kind, boosting the smaller ones up to reach.

Funny, that the orchard didn’t carry memories of James. He hadn’t been part of that early childhood, when Daniel as a near neighbor had naturally been there to help her uncle with the picking. James, living with his widowed mother in the center of town, had had no place there. Even after they bought Onkel Isaac’s place, James had left the orchard to her.

So preoccupied was she with memories that she didn’t notice the figure coming toward them until Benjy’s shout.

“Grossdaadi!” He hurtled through the grass, his chubby legs churning, and bolted into her father’s arms. Daadi lifted him over his head, then gave him a hug and set him down.

“Komm, schnell. See all the apples I picked. They’re called Honey...” He looked at his mother.

“Honeycrisp,” she prompted. “Because they’re sweet like honey and crisp when you bite into them.” She polished one against her apron and handed it to him. “Try it.”

Grinning, he bit into it, rewarded by a spurt of juice that dribbled down his chin. “Yummy.” The word was muffled by apple, and she and Daad exchanged a smile.

When Benjy ran off to find some more to pick, her father gestured to the rough-hewn bench Onkel Isaac had built long ago. “Komm. Sit.”

Once they were settled, he glanced around the orchard. “A gut crop of the Honeycrisps this year. You can sell some at the store, ain’t so?”

Beth tensed at the mention of the store, conscious of the fact that she still hadn’t had that talk with Daniel. “Did Mammi talk to you about me?”

He patted her hand. “You can’t keep folks who love you from talking about you. You wouldn’t want to, now would you?”

“I guess not,” she admitted. “I suppose you think I ought to make some decisions about the store, too.”

Her father paused for a moment, as if considering the matter. “You want some time, for sure. But maybe you’re not seeing it from Daniel’s point of view. With James gone, you own his share of the store. It’s natural that Daniel would be anxious about your plans.”

“I guess. But I don’t have any plans, not yet.” If she could be alone in her grief and betrayal...

“Sometimes I think Daniel is married to that store.” Daad’s craggy face softened in a smile. “It’s natural, ain’t so? He doesn’t have a wife and kinder, and his father’s farm will go to his brother. He’s a hard worker. Always has been.”

Was he making a contrast with James? She couldn’t tell. “James did a gut job with the store,” she said, feeling compelled to defend him, despite what she’d learned.

“Ach, yah, I’m not saying he didn’t. All the more reason why Daniel wants to know what your plans are.”

Daadi studied her face, maybe looking for a sign that she agreed. Then he glanced at the apples again.

“I’ll send some of the family over tomorrow to help you do a first picking of apples. Then, if you want to sell them...” He waited, looking at her.

“Yah, all right.” There was no getting out of it. “The Honeycrisp should be eaten when they’re ready, since they aren’t such gut keepers. We’ll give some to the family.” She forced herself to smile. “And I’ll talk to Daniel about selling them.”

“Gut.” Daadi squeezed her hand, and that was as good as praise. “I can stay with Benjy while you go and see him. We’ll go ahead and pick a basket for you to take to him.”

She hadn’t meant now, and she suspected Daad knew it. Still, if she must do it, it was better done now. And the same held true about making decisions for the future.

Daniel glanced up from the low shelf he was arranging at the sound of the bell and started to rise. He stopped for an instant before completing the movement. It wasn’t his imagination. It was Beth.

He headed for her, relieved to think she was doing better. She must be, since she was here. Another step brought him close enough to chase that idea away. If anything, Beth looked even worse than she had the day he’d stopped by to see her. Strain had drawn her skin tautly against the bones of her face, and her cheeks seemed hollow. It was like seeing her when she was very old, and he could hardly keep from exclaiming at the sight.

For a moment he couldn’t speak. Realizing that every customer in the store seemed similarly affected, he forced himself to say her name. “Beth, wilkom. I’m wonderful glad you came by today.”

With a quick movement, Beth thrust the basket she carried at him. “Honeycrisp apples,” she said, as if that was an explanation for her presence.

He saw the movement of her neck when she swallowed, and then she went on.

“We’re going to do the first picking of the early apples tomorrow. Do you want a few baskets to sell? If you think anyone will want them, I mean.”

“I’m certain folks will—”

An Englisch customer moved closer to peer at the basket. “Honeycrisp, did you say? I can hardly ever find them. I’ll stop by on Friday morning. Hold a peck for me, will you?”

“Yah, I’ll be glad to, Mrs. Warren.”

“Good.” She darted a curious glance at Beth before moving on to look at the bread case.

“There’s your answer, ain’t so?” Daniel smiled. “If you need any more help to pick, I can send my nephew over.”

“Denke, but my daad is coming with some of the young ones.”

“Your daad will get the job done fast. I remember what he was like when we all helped your onkel to do it. He’s not one to take excuses.”

She actually tried to smile at that. “He’s still the same. He’s watching Benjy right now so I could come over.”

“Whether you wanted to or not,” he finished for her.

“You did say we needed to talk about the store, ain’t so?”

He touched her arm lightly and gestured. “Let’s go to the back room. There should be coffee on.” He raised his voice. “Anna?”

Anna Fisher, their sixteen-year-old clerk, sidled in from the storeroom and stopped. Shy, he supposed, at the sight of the new widow. Like everyone, she’d been shocked by James’s death.

“Take charge for a few minutes. We’ll be in the back, talking.”

She nodded, moving behind the counter without wasting a word. He’d been doubtful at first that someone so shy would be successful as a clerk, but she’d surprised him. He was thankful for her now, with James no longer here to help.

Leading the way, he took Beth to the room that served as a combination office and break room. Sure enough, there was coffee staying warm on the small gas stove. While he got out cups and spoons, his mind worked busily, trying to figure out the best approach to this conversation. If he had his way, Beth would come in as a partner, and together they’d keep the store going as it was. But that might not be Beth’s idea of a future.

He turned to the table, sitting down across from her as he put the coffee mugs in place. “How are you, Bethy?” The childhood nickname had come up without his thinking about it, but it actually made her face lighten a little.

“All right, I guess.” But then her expression closed down again, negating her words. It made him want to grasp her hand, the way he’d have done when they were children and something had frightened her.

But he couldn’t, of course. They were grown-ups now, and Beth was the widow of his best friend. He would help her in any way he could while still respecting her position.

Daniel cleared his throat, trying to find the way forward. “I... I hoped you might have made some decision about the store.”

“Daadi said something about that, too.” Beth ran her hand across her forehead, as if brushing away cobwebs. “I’m being stupid, I guess. James never talked about business with me. I don’t even know how I stand and whether I have enough to support my son.”

The thread of what might be anger in her voice startled him. He’d never heard her say anything critical about James. He must be mistaken. Beth had always adored James.

He’d have to assure her as best he could. “You needn’t worry about supporting Benjy. You own half the business now, and we’re doing pretty well. And you own the house and the orchard free and clear, ain’t so?”

She nodded, her expression easing. “Yah, you’re right. Onkel Isaac made it easy for us to buy. He was wonderful gut to me.”

“Your uncle was a fine man, and a gut neighbor, as well.” Little Beth had been his favorite among his many nieces and nephews, so it wasn’t surprising that he’d wanted to protect her. “You want to stay where you are, then?”

“Yah, for sure. I never thought of anything else.” She glanced up at him, a question in her green eyes. “As for the store...well, what else can we do but carry on as we are?”

It was tempting just to agree, but Beth ought to consider her options before she came to a decision.

“You do have other choices. If we go ahead as we are, we might have to hire another helper. Or you could come in and help. Even a few hours a week might be enough.” He took a breath. “Or you might want to sell your share of the store.”

There, it was out. If she did want to sell, he’d have no choice but to make the best of it.

“Sell?” She’d obviously never considered it. “Do you mean you want to buy my share?”

“No.” Daniel couldn’t get the word out fast enough, and it startled him. He hadn’t realized he felt so strongly about it. “I mean, I’m afraid I couldn’t afford it, not yet, anyway. But even if I could...” He struggled to articulate what he felt about the store.

“James and I took a risk when we started this place, but it’s paid off. We liked working together. I guess now I’d like to think of Benjy growing up and becoming my partner, working beside me.” He seemed to see the boy grown up, with his mother’s sweetness and loving heart as well as his father’s laughter and charm. “The store is his legacy from his father, ain’t so?”

At his words, an expression he couldn’t begin to interpret crossed Beth’s face. He’d known her most of their lives, but he’d never seen her look like that before.

It was gone again, leaving him feeling disturbed without knowing why. “What do you think?”

Beth was silent for a moment, her gaze seeming fixed on something he couldn’t see. Then she let out a long breath. “For now, I’d like to go on the way we are. But maybe that’s not fair to you. James isn’t here to do his share of the work, so we can’t take his share of the profits. It wouldn’t be right.”

He hadn’t expected that, and maybe he should have. Beth, for all her softness, had a strong sense of what was right.

“We can work that out,” he said. “Like I said, we could hire someone else. Or you might want to spend some time helping out, ain’t so?”

He could see how that idea shook her, could anticipate the instant refusal coming.

“I... I can’t. I’ve never done anything like that. And anyway, I can’t leave Benjy.”

Again, he had that longing to reach out and take her hand. “Not full-time, no. But why don’t you come in for a few hours a day? You can bring Benjy with you. He’d enjoy it.”

“I don’t know...”

He sensed her considering it and pressed his advantage. “It makes sense, Beth. You ought to see the operation for yourself. Maybe look over the books and get a little understanding of how it works. It’s part yours now, yah?”

She rose, and he stood up with her. It looked as if she’d leave without a decision, but then she nodded. “I can’t promise more, but I’ll come in one day. Not tomorrow, but soon.”

He’d have to be content with that for now. But he for sure wanted to know what was behind her reluctance.

The next afternoon Beth stood in the driveway, waving as her father’s horse-drawn wagon reached the main road and turned in at the store. The apple-picking had been enjoyed by all the young cousins. She’d been expecting someone to fall out of a tree, but Daad had kept a stern eye on his grandchildren, so there’d been no horseplay.

Each of them had taken a small basket home with them. They’d stopped at the store to deliver ten peck baskets of apples. There’d be more in a few days, but she’d wait to see how the first ones sold. She didn’t want to burden Daniel with anything he couldn’t sell.

She was starting toward the back door when she saw a buggy turn into the drive. Company for her? She gave her skirt a quick shake, hoping she didn’t have any leaves or twigs caught in her clothes. Then she recognized Lydia, so she smiled and waved, walking to the driveway to meet her cousin.

“How nice. I’m having lots of company today.” She fastened the line to the hitching post. “Wilkom, Lydia.”

Lydia gave her a quick hug and stood back for a moment, scanning her face. She gave an approving nod. “You look better today. Gut!”

“Always better for seeing you.” They linked arms as they walked into the house. “Tea or coffee?” She usually preferred tea in the afternoon, but sometimes Lydia liked coffee. “I have a pot I made for Daad.”

“Coffee, then.” She took the chair she usually sat in for their afternoon break. “I saw your daad at the store. Looked as if they were unloading apples.”

“Yah, we did the first picking of the early apples. I’ll put some in a basket for you to take home. Tell your mamm they’re Honeycrisp.”

“I’ll do that. Denke.” She took the mug of coffee Beth handed her. “All right, tell me. Why are you looking better today?”

Beth shrugged, taking her seat. “I’m not sure. Just being busier helps, I guess. The apple-picking today, and yesterday I went to the store to talk to Daniel.” She frowned a little at the thought of what she’d promised. “What about you? Have you been working a lot?”

Lydia nodded, making a face. “Waitressing at the coffee shop isn’t a very challenging job. Sometimes I wish the regulars would order something different, just for a change.”

“Why should they? You have the same thing every day for breakfast at home, don’t you?”

“That’s different. I have whatever Mamm cooks. If I had my way, I’d fix something different every day.”

Beth couldn’t help but smile. Lydia always claimed to long for something different, but she went on in the usual Amish routine all the same.

“Laughing at me?” Lydia said. “Ach, I deserve it. I should be ashamed to complain. Never mind that, anyway. Tell me what Daniel wanted.”

Now it was her turn to grimace. “Everyone keeps pushing me to make some decisions about the store, and I can’t think of anything but...well, you know.”

“Yah, I know.” Lydia reached across the table to clasp her hand. “Did anything new come to light?”

“No. I asked Daniel where James was going that last night, but he didn’t know.”

“You think he was meeting that woman, whoever she was? It might not be that at all.”

“Then what was he doing out on Owl Hollow Road?”

Lydia didn’t have an answer to that. After a moment she countered with another question. “What exactly did Daniel say?”

She rubbed the tense muscles in the back of her neck. “He said they’d been working on something in the store, and when they were about finished, James went out first. I guess he thought James was just going home.”

“So James didn’t say anything to him.”

Was there doubt in Lydia’s voice? She couldn’t be sure. But Daniel wouldn’t lie to her. “If he’d known where James was going, he’d have told me.” She clenched her teaspoon so hard her fingers stung. “Now I’m supposed to take over our share of the store, and I don’t know a thing about it.”

Lydia glanced down at the liquid in her mug, as if mulling something over. “I was always a little surprised that you didn’t help out in the store sometimes, especially once Benjy wasn’t a baby anymore.”

“That’s the way James wanted it. He said I had enough to do with Benjy, the house, the garden and the orchard. I never questioned it.”

She’d grown so used to the fact that she’d never really wondered about it. Plenty of women with families helped out in the family business.

“It would be easier now if you had been more involved, but I don’t suppose James envisioned a time when he wouldn’t be there.” Lydia glanced at her, as if to be sure her words hadn’t hurt.

“Yah, it would be. I don’t believe James ever considered the need. After all, his mother never did work outside the home, and she just had the one child and the little house in town.”

Lydia’s dimples showed at the mention of Beth’s mother-in-law. “It’s certain sure Sarah Esch never thought of anything on her own. I’ve never seen a woman so...so passive in my life.”

Beth had to suppress a smile. “Sarah is like a soft, fluffy pillow you can push into any shape.” Fearing that sounded critical, she hurried on. “But she’s a wonderful, sweet mother-in-law.”

“I guess.” She hesitated. “Pillows are all very well to rest on, but they don’t help you get anything done. And she always doted on James. Spoiled him, some folks say.”

“He was all she had.” Beth felt compelled to defend her mother-in-law, but it was true that Sarah’s fluttering over James and then over Benjy drove her wild sometimes. “She’s another person who can never know the truth.”

“I guess not. But I just wish you didn’t have to carry this burden all alone.”

“I have you,” Beth said softly. “Denke.”

Lydia wiped her eyes and then chuckled. “We’d best find something else to talk about before we’re both crying. So what are you going to do about the store now?”

“Daniel has this idea that I should start going in for a few hours a day. That way at least I can learn something about the business, but—”

“But what? It sounds like a gut idea to me,” Lydia said. “Unless you’re thinking to sell your share?”

“Daniel said something about the store being Benjy’s legacy from his father, and it’s true. If I sell, we’d have the money, but money isn’t everything. Benjy wouldn’t have the store.”

“You don’t have to decide right away, do you? Why not try Daniel’s suggestion?” Lydia was practical, as always. “Maybe you’ll find a way to be a real partner in the business.”

The very thought sent a shiver through her. “I don’t know that I can.”

“Why not?” Lydia’s voice was brisk. “You’re smart, and you’re a hard worker. And you don’t want to turn into a fluffy pillow, ain’t so?”

Halfway between laughing and crying, Beth threw a napkin at her. “All right. Don’t be so bossy. I’ll try. I’ll go in and see what it’s like, but that’s all.”

“Tomorrow,” Lydia said firmly.

Beth wished she had another napkin to throw. “Tomorrow. I promise.”

She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

Chapter Three

For Beth, the walk down the driveway to the store the next day went too quickly. She’d agreed to spend the morning learning about the store, but that didn’t mean she wanted to become part of it. Maybe she and Daniel could figure out some other way...

“Hurry up, Mammi.” Benjy, in a rush as always, tugged at her hand. “I want to see what we’re going to do at the store.”

“I told you, remember? I must learn how the store works. And you have your jigsaw puzzle to work on and your farm animals to play with.”

“Can’t I help? Please?” He looked up at her, his bright blue eyes, so like his father’s, pleading.

She had to guard against the temptation to give in when he looked at her that way. “You’ll have plenty of time to work when you’re older. Komm, let’s go in.”

Despite her words, she was the one who hesitated as they neared the glass door at the front of the cinder block building. She remembered the good-natured arguments between James and Daniel when they planned the store. Daniel had been cautious, thinking it should be smaller, but James had laughed at him, saying he should have more confidence in their success. In the end, James had prevailed, as he so often did.

But he’d been proved right, hadn’t he? The store was a success. Grasping Benjy firmly by the hand, she pushed the door and stepped inside.

Daniel came forward immediately, smiling in welcome. “Ach, Beth, wilkom. And you, Benjy.” He gestured, and the other two people in the store came forward. “You remember Anna Fisher, don’t you? She’s been working for us for about a year.”

The teenager gave Beth a quick glance before lowering her eyes again. Given how shy Anna was, it wondered Beth that she could wait on customers, but from what James had said about her, Anna was a conscientious worker.

“It’s gut to see you again, Anna. I understand the store couldn’t get along without you.”

A flush brightened the girl’s pale cheeks. “Denke,” she murmured.

Poor child. Everyone knew what a disagreeable person Hiram Fisher was, and Beth didn’t imagine he was any better with his daughter. No wonder the girl looked as if she’d wilt at a sharp word.

Thinking Anna would relax once the attention was off her, Beth turned to the third person, who waited next to Daniel.

“This is one of your nephews, ain’t so? Timothy, right?”

The boy grinned, his blue eyes dancing. He must be about fourteen or fifteen to be out of school, but he looked younger with that mischievous grin and the freckles that dotted his nose.

“Yah, Timothy, that’s me.”

“My brother Seth’s oldest,” Daniel added. “He’s been helping us out since...for the last few weeks.”

Since James died, he meant. She’d have to convince them that they didn’t need to fear mentioning him, even if it was difficult.

“That’s wonderful gut of you, Timothy.”

“Denke.” And then, as if it burst out of him, he added, “I really like it. Maybe I’ll have a business of my own one day.”

Daniel reached out to ruffle his hair, smiling. “You’re a far distance from that just now, young Timothy. You have some stocking to do, ain’t so?”

Nothing seemed to disturb Timothy’s grin. “Bossy,” he muttered, and drifted off. Anna took advantage of the opportunity to slip away as quietly as a mouse.

Benjy tugged at Beth’s skirt. “Everybody is working, Mammi. I want to work, too.”

“Not today.” She handed him the bag containing his toys. “We’ll find a place to set up your puzzle.”

He took the bag but obviously had something else to say. “Grossdaadi said that one day part of the store would be mine. I should help.”

“Not today, I said.” She was aware of Daniel listening and suspected he was disapproving.

Benjy got his mulish look, but before he could say anything, Daniel intervened.

“Komm, let’s find a table where you can work your puzzle.” He held out his hand to Benjy. “Maybe you can help me set the table up, all right?”

One thing she could say for Benjy—he was easily distracted. He trotted along after Daniel, and she had time to breathe for a moment.

What would Daniel think of her, being so sharp with her son? She could hardly tell him why being in the place so associated with James had set her nerves on edge. Was it here that James’s involvement with the woman started? It seemed likely.

But when Daniel returned after he and Benjy had set up a folding table and Benjy had dumped out the puzzle pieces, he didn’t appear to be thinking any such thing.

“Since you haven’t been here much, why don’t we start off with a walk around, just to remind you where everything is?”

Beth nodded, and together they checked out the small break room, where the coffeepot steamed, and took a look in the storeroom, which stretched across the back of the building. Timothy was there, loading what looked like heavy boxes of canned goods onto a cart. He glanced up with a grin before turning back to the boxes.

“We have a pretty fast turnover most of the time, so we try to stay ahead of what’s going to be needed,” Daniel explained, gesturing toward the marked cartons. “It’s been a big help having Timothy here. In fact...” He stopped, as if reconsidering what he was going to say.

Before she could ask, he’d moved on. “Here’s the office. All the book work is done here. If you want to go over the books, I’ll be glad to show you where everything is.”

She had a quick vision of James sitting at the desk, his hair ruffled as he struggled with figures. “Not right now,” she said. Then, unable to resist prodding the pain of picturing him, she added, “Did James do the record keeping?”

Daniel chuckled. “Not James. He didn’t like jobs that required sitting still. He enjoyed interacting with the customers and the suppliers, so he took care of that side of things.”

“It was kind of you to let him do the job he liked.” But with his outgoing personality, James had probably done it well.

Daniel shrugged. “James was used to getting his way.”

She gave him a sharp look, but it was apparent that wasn’t meant as an insult. It was simply the truth. James did usually get his way, and things seemed to turn out as he wanted.

When they got back to the store proper, several customers had come in. Anna was busy in the baked goods section, leaving no one at the checkout counter. Beth expected Daniel to head there, but instead he gave her a hopeful look.

“Would you mind running the checkout counter for a bit? A fresh produce order should be coming in, and I need to talk with the driver. There’s an adding machine on the counter, and the price should be marked on everything.”

“I guess I could do that.” She felt shy taking it on, but surely it couldn’t be that hard. If she kept busy, maybe she’d stop picturing James everywhere she turned.

The gratitude in Daniel’s face chided her. She had given little thought, enmeshed in her own misery, for how this affected Daniel and the business.

“I’ll shout if I need help, yah?”

Daniel’s smile lit his normally serious face, making her think of how James had teased him, saying it made him look like an old man. Pushing the thought away, she hurried to the counter.

The first couple of checkouts were easy. The customers were from her own church district, so all of them had already had opportunities to express their condolences. They still all commented on how good it was to see her out of the house, but she could handle that.

Several people commented on the Honeycrisp apples, knowing that they’d have come from her orchard. She was a little surprised at the lift that gave her. The fruits of the orchard were her products, maybe that was why.

By taking a few steps, she could see around the nearest counter to where Benjy sat. He’d been working on his puzzle, but soon he had given that up, and he seemed to be putting his miniature farm animals into and out of a barn improvised from a box.

When she turned back to the counter, she recognized Ellen Schultz heading toward her, wearing an expression composed of sorrow and curiosity mixed. Beth braced herself. Ellen belonged to the sister church district, which shared the same bishop, so this was her opportunity to express condolences.

“Ach, Beth, I didn’t think to see you in the store. Poor thing.” Ellen grasped her hand, and ready tears welled in the woman’s eyes. “I’m that sorry for your loss. James is safe with God, but you are left to carry on, ain’t so?”

Clearly the woman didn’t expect an answer. That was just as well, since Beth didn’t have one. Would James be with the Lord, despite the pain and betrayal he’d left behind? She hadn’t considered it, and she didn’t want to.

“Denke, Ellen. You’re so kind.”

As she added up Ellen’s bill and collected the money, she let the flow of commiserations go in one ear and out the other. How long, she wondered, would it take for people to stop thinking of her as “poor Beth”?

With a few more expressions of sympathy, Ellen carried her packages out the door. Beth took a deep breath, relieved that no one else was headed to the counter at the moment. She’d just check on Benjy...

She moved the few steps that let her see the table. The table was there all right, with Benjy’s puzzle scattered on top of it and the farm animals in their barn. But Benjy wasn’t there. Panic gripped her heart. Benjy was gone.

Daniel was carrying a carton of lettuce through the storeroom when Beth rushed through the door, her face white and her eyes filled with panic. Shoving the carton onto the nearest table, he raced toward her.

“Beth, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Benjy! I can’t find Benjy.” She stared frantically around the storeroom. “Benjy! Are you in here?”

“Easy, slow down.” He clasped her arm to keep her from rushing off. “He can’t have gone far. Are you sure he isn’t in the store?”

“He’s gone. I just turned away for a few minutes to check out a customer, and when I looked again, he wasn’t there.” Her voice shook on the words.

“He probably got bored and went to look around, that’s all. Komm, you can’t help by panicking. I’ll help you look.”

Beth shot him an angry glance, but then she sucked in a breath and nodded.

They separated to move quickly through the storeroom, although Daniel felt reasonably sure the boy couldn’t have gotten in. The latch on the storeroom door was too high for Benjy to reach, he’d think.

They met back at the door. “He must be in the store,” he said, trying to keep any doubt out of his voice. For sure Benjy would be there. Where else could he be?

“Just stay calm,” he said, holding the door for her. “There’s nowhere else he could have gone.”

Her eyes widened, as if what he’d said had frightened her. “The door. What if he slipped outside? It’s so close to the road—” She didn’t finish, just darted toward the front door.

Daniel let her go, knowing there was no sense in trying to stop her. She was frightened, and that wasn’t surprising. Only a month ago she’d buried her husband, and the responsibility for their child must weigh heavily on her. The best thing he could do was to look for Benjy himself in the most likely places. He started through the aisles.

And sure enough, the most likely place it was. Benjy stood behind a stack of boxes, peering around them at Timothy, who was unloading cans of vegetables.

Safe enough. And natural, too, that the boy would be looking for some activity after sitting so long. Any smart, active four-year-old would want to be part of things.

Leaving them without speaking, Daniel headed for the front door. Through the glass door he could see Beth looking up and down the road for any glimpse of her son. The anguish on her face ripped at his heart.

He covered the remaining space to the door in a few swift strides, shoved it open and reached her. “It’s all right. He’s fine. He’s inside.”

Beth’s green eyes, dark with worry, searched his face and saw the confidence there. She let out a long breath. “Thank the gut Lord. Where is he?” She started toward the door, as if to rush in and scoop him up.

He clasped her wrist to stop her, feeling it pound against his palm. “Wait, Beth. Calm down. Benjy doesn’t think he’s missing. You don’t want to scare him, ain’t so?”

For an instant he thought she’d flare up at him, but then she seemed to struggle for control. She took a deep breath, and then another.

“You’re right. I guess I overreacted. When he wasn’t where I expected him to be, it just seemed to wash me off my feet.”

“I know. With everything...with losing James...it’s natural you’d be off balance.”

She nodded. Letting out another long breath, she managed a slight smile. “All right. I can behave now. Let’s go in.”

They walked back toward the canned goods, and he could almost feel the tension in her making her long to grab Benjy and fuss over him. He was tempted to repeat his warning, but if she resented it, he’d have done more harm than good.

When they reached the last row of shelves, Beth stood quietly, just watching the two boys. Relieved, he stood behind her and looked over her shoulder.

Benjy stood next to Timothy, who was kneeling on the floor, transferring cans from the boxes to the shelves. “...each kind of vegetable has its own place,” Timothy was explaining. “See, I look at the picture on the can and then at the cans on the shelf. This one is corn, so where do you think it goes?”

His small face serious, Benjy studied the shelves. “There!” he said, triumph in his voice. He pointed to the right place, and Timothy, grinning, put the can in its spot.

“Gut.” Benjy hesitated. “Can I put some on the shelves? I could help you.”

Now it was Timothy’s turn to hesitate. “If your mammi says it’s okay.” He nodded toward them. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Benjy spun around, seeing them for the first time. “Can I, Mammi? Can I help Timothy?”

The last of Beth’s tension seemed gone. “If Timothy is willing to show you, that’s fine. But mind, if he has to do something else, you don’t pester him. All right?”

Benjy’s smile was like sunshine breaking through the clouds. “I won’t, Mammi. I’ll do just what Timothy says.”

“Gut.” Beth turned, coming face-to-face with Daniel. He stepped back. He was pleased to see her smiling as they walked away.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she murmured. “That’s how we learned, yah? By standing next to someone, learning and then trying it ourselves.”

“That’s it, for sure. Remember when your onkel taught us how to pick the apples? He was a patient man, letting a bunch of kids like us loose in his orchard.”

“I remember.” Her face eased into a smile. “Denke, Daniel. I’m glad I brought Benjy.”

By the next afternoon, Beth regretted she’d said those words. Benjy seemed determined to turn their visit to the store into a regular routine. He was dismayed to find they weren’t heading out first thing the following morning. After his third complaint, Beth knelt beside him.

“I know you like going to the store, and we’ll do it again. But not today,” she added, before he could burst into speech. “This afternoon the cousins are coming to pick apples again, remember? We have to be here.”

Benjy wasn’t one to be discouraged at a single obstacle. “But this morning—”

“This morning I have my regular work to do so I can be free for the apple-picking. And you’re going to clean up your bedroom.”

The firmness in her voice must have told him argument was useless. He headed toward the stairs, his steps dragging. Suppressing a smile, she turned back to the breakfast dishes.

Benjy was a good boy. He liked to get his own way, but what four-year-old didn’t? If he had a little brother or sister, he’d have learned to be more flexible, she supposed. Now...well, now she couldn’t see that it would ever happen. She’d have to take extra care not to spoil him.

Despite Benjy’s enthusiasm for the store, she couldn’t help wondering how long it would last if she committed to working a regular schedule. She could have someone watch him, but she hated the idea of leaving her little one with someone else.

But how else could she do her share of the work? The business belonged to her and Daniel now, and it wasn’t fair to him if she didn’t contribute something to the store. The issue swirled around and around in her mind, making her dizzy with indecision. She felt a wave of anger toward James for dying and leaving her in this predicament, and an instant later she fell to her knees, praying for forgiveness.

“Mammi?” Benjy’s voice penetrated her misery. “What’s wrong? Did you fall down?”

The tremor in his voice brought her back to her senses. She pressed her palms against the braided rug in front of the sink.

“No, no, I’m fine. I thought I dropped a pin, that’s all.” She rose. “All finished upstairs?” At his nod, she went on. “Let’s go out and check for eggs, then.”

Benjy was easily distracted, but her conscience continued to trouble her for the next few hours. Anger might be a natural response, but for the faithful, it was one to be conquered. Whatever wrong James had done, it was vanished in God’s forgiveness now.

Beth had just cleared up from lunch when she heard the rattle of the wagon coming down the drive.

“Mammi, they’re here!” Benjy had been perched on the back porch steps, watching eagerly for any sign of his cousins.

“I’m coming.” She hurried out to welcome them, surprised to see Daniel sitting in the back of the wagon next to her brother Eli and several of her nieces and nephews.

“Wilkom. I can see we’ll get a lot of picking done this afternoon with all this help.”

“Hop on,” Daad said. “We’ll take the wagon up to the orchard so we can load easily.”

“You go ahead. I’ll fetch the baskets.”

Even as she was speaking, Daniel slid down and lifted Benjy into the wagon. “I’ll give you a hand,” he said.

“Denke, but shouldn’t you be at the store this afternoon?”

“I thought it would be gut for Anna to be left in charge for a bit. Besides, the sooner we get the apples picked, the faster we’ll sell them. I’ve had folks asking for them.”

Giving in, she led the way to the shed where she’d stored the baskets. He bent to pick up a stack of them, and she followed suit, wondering if he were trying to make her feel good about the apples. But it was true that the first few baskets they’d taken in had sold quickly.

Beth half expected him to bring up the idea of her coming to work at the store on a regular basis, but he didn’t, just chatting easily about the orchard and reminding her of other days of apple-picking.

When they reached the early apple trees, Daniel dropped his stack of baskets and began to hand them out.

Daad grabbed one. “Let’s get started. Eli, you and Daniel might bring the stepladder. I don’t want these young ones climbing too high.”

“Ach, we can do it, Grossdaadi.” Eli’s twelve-year-old, Joshua, was brimming with confidence, and she hoped Benjy wasn’t going to emulate him.

“The last time you climbed too high and Daadi had to get the ladder to bring you down,” Janie said, flattening him as only an older sister could.

“That was years ago,” he protested.

Eli and Daniel, coming from the shed with the stepladder, overheard some of it, and Eli frowned at both of them. “No fussing, you two. And, Joshua, you listen to Aunt Beth. They are her trees, ain’t so?”

Joshua grinned, unrepentant. “Yah, I will.”

“That one’s as full of mischief as his daadi was,” Daniel commented, seizing a basket. “I remember Eli clowning around when we were picking once and breaking a branch. Your onkel laid into him something fierce.”

Before Beth could answer, Benjy tugged at her skirt. “Mammi, where’s my basket? I have to pick.”

“Right here,” Daniel said quickly. “You and I are partners, ain’t so?”

“Yah!” Benjy’s face lit up, and he grabbed the basket. “Hurry, before they pick all the apples.”

“We can’t let that happen.” His eyes laughing, Daniel winked at Beth and went off with her son.

Beth stood where she was for a moment, not sure how she felt about letting Benjy go off with someone else. Foolish, she scolded herself. You can trust Daniel, and you don’t want to tie Benjy to your apron strings.

Grabbing a basket, she headed for the tree where young Janie was picking.

“The apples are wonderful gut,” Janie said, putting her foot in the crotch of the tree and moving higher. She’d hung a smaller basket around her waist so that she didn’t have to climb up and down and was picking with quick, deft motions.

“Yah, they are. It’s the best crop of Honeycrisp we’ve had in several years. They’re choosy about the weather.” She seemed to hear her uncle’s voice echoing in her head. “That’s what Onkel Isaac always said.”

Janie nodded. “You’ll be able to sell a lot in the store.” She hesitated, looking as if she wanted to say something more.

Beth smiled at her, thinking how dear this sweet niece was to her. “Did you want to ask me something, Janie?”

Smiling back, she ducked her head. “I was just thinking... Daadi said you maybe would be working in the store more. If you are, I could watch Benjy for you, couldn’t I?”

Every member of her family seemed to think they knew what she ought to do. Or what she planned to, which was more than she did. Still, this was the obvious answer to one of her concerns.

“I don’t know yet what I’m going to do,” she said carefully. “But if I do work at the store, I think that would be a fine idea.”

Janie’s eyes danced, probably at the idea of having an actual job. “I’d like that. Anytime you need me.”

Putting a couple of apples in her basket, Beth stretched her back. When she looked across the orchard, she could see Daniel holding Benjy up to pick some apples high over his head.

Benjy showed no fear, she realized. He trusted Daniel just as he trusted his family. He wasn’t afraid of the future.

The thought struck her. Was that what was behind her reluctance to take her place as Daniel’s partner? Fear?

There was no need for fear. Wariness, maybe. She didn’t think she could ever trust a man in the way she’d trusted James—blindly sure that she knew him. But it wasn’t that holding her paralyzed.

She felt as if she were poised on a stone in a rushing creek, longing to stay in the familiar place, but knowing she couldn’t. Knowing it had already crumbled under her feet.

It was time to move forward. Everyone, it seemed, knew that but her.

Beth set her basket down. “I’ll be back in a minute, Janie.”

Without waiting for a response, she headed toward Daniel. When he spotted her, he lowered Benjy to the ground, watching her warily.

Did he think she was going to protest his boosting Benjy up in the tree?

“Are you two getting lots of apples?”

Benjy beamed at the question. “Look, Mammi. Me and Daniel picked half a basket already.”

Beth touched his soft cheek. “We always put the other person first, remember?”

He ducked his head. “Daniel and me.”

Daniel’s mouth twitched at that, and she had to suppress a smile. At the moment she was teaching the Amish way, not grammar.

“Better,” she said. She looked up at Daniel. “I just wanted to ask. Which is best for the business—for me to work mornings or afternoons?”

He understood, and his face lit much as Benjy’s had. “Either is gut. Denke, Beth. I’m glad.”

She took a deep breath and tried to settle the qualms she felt. She’d committed herself now, and she’d have to go through with it.