Harvest of Blessings Read online

  As dusk fell, Millie sat on her bed watching the shadows fill her tomblike room. I’ve got to hear this Nora story from somebody. But who?

  Chapter Six

  At five o’clock on Friday morning, Nora strode across the parking lot of the Sweet Seasons Bakery Café. The lights were on in the back of the building, and while she hated to interrupt Miriam’s baking, this seemed like her best opportunity for some damage control. It was only right that her parents, Atlee, Lizzie, and Millie hear about her presence before the grapevine blazed with news of her return, just as it was a sure thing that Luke and Ira Hooley would be blabbing about their new redheaded neighbor when they came here for breakfast. Nora hoped Miriam was still the levelheaded, compassionate woman she’d been years ago, when she’d been raising school-aged Rachel and Rhoda.

  But a lot of things had changed in Willow Ridge. Nora was finding out the hard way that she hadn’t anticipated nearly enough of the complications she would cause when she showed her face. She knocked on the back door.

  “Jah? It’s open,” Miriam called out.

  Such a lack of concern for security took Nora back to her childhood, when nobody had locked any doors. As she stepped into the kitchen, a warm sweetness redolent with yeast and sugar and cinnamon wrapped around her like a cozy shawl. Miriam stood at the back counter arranging rolled-out pie dough in the metal pie pans that covered most of her work area. She was thicker in the middle than Nora remembered, but she worked with the same cheerful energy and efficiency. When Miriam looked up, her brown eyes widened. The crust she’d been lifting dropped into the nearest pan.

  “So it’s true,” she murmured. “Wilma said you’d been to see her yesterday, but nobody wanted to believe her. Hello, Nora.”

  “Hi,” Nora murmured. “I was hoping you’d help me with—see, I bought Hiram Knepp’s house—”

  “Did ya, now?”

  “—and Luke and Ira Hooley have already introduced themselves—”

  “Jah, I just bet they have.”

  “And, well . . .” Nora lost track of what she’d intended to say. Miriam’s expressive face embodied the best of Amish simplicity, concern, and wisdom, which reminded Nora yet again of the life she had fled—and the family she might not be able to reconcile with, no matter how sincerely she wanted to. “Mamma recognized me?”

  “Oh, jah, and now your dat and Lizzie are flustered right along with her,” Miriam replied in a low voice. “And then there’s poor Millie, who walked in when my Ben and I were leavin’.” Miriam came to stand in front of Nora, her face solemn as she crossed her arms. “That girl has no idea about who ya are, Nora, but all the adults she loves and trusts are in a dither over ya. I hope ya know what you’re doin’, comin’ back to town this way. I want no part of breakin’ Millie’s heart or tearin’ her life apart.”

  A sob escaped Nora and her hands fluttered to cover it. “This is not the way I’d intended to come home—honest to God, I came back to ask their forgiveness. To reconcile with Mamma and Dat before they—and to be Millie’s mother.”

  Miriam’s brow arched sternly. “But see, Millie already has a mamm, and as far as she knows, it’s Lizzie. And don’t be talkin’ so fast and loose when you’re usin’ God’s name, either. I won’t stand for it.”

  Nora swallowed so hard her throat clicked. It seemed the dominoes were already falling in a chain reaction that she’d lost control over. “I came here to ask for your help, Miriam,” she pleaded, “because I remember you as calm and supportive and—and loving, when other people—”

  Miriam’s face remained taut.

  Nora wiped her eyes with her hand and then realized she’d smeared her mascara—just one more point this steadfast Old Order woman would chalk up against her. “I suspect Luke and Ira will come here for breakfast. They’ll start blabbing about the neighbor who’s bought Hiram’s place—”

  “Jah, that’ll be big news around here.”

  “—and I didn’t want Dat to hear about it secondhand. But if he already knows . . .” Nora shook her head, gazing sadly at the plank floor. “I should’ve stayed at the house yesterday until folks got back from the wedding. But when I saw Mamma in that bed, looking like a corpse—and then when she opened her eyes—I got so startled, I ran out. I hope I didn’t . . . finish her off.”

  Nora focused on Miriam through her tears. “I’ve really, really made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

  Miriam stepped forward to wrap her sturdy arms around Nora’s shoulders. “Now you’re talkin’ like the gentle, sweet Nora I remember,” she murmured. “You’re on the right path, but it’s not gonna be a walk in the park. When ya left, your dat insisted that none of us speak about ya ever again, and he’s maintainin’ that silence now. Your mamm, bless her heart, is out of bed for the first time in months, so excited that she saw ya.”

  Nora eased away from the embrace that felt so welcoming. “She knew me?”

  “For sure and for certain.” Miriam’s face creased with her smile. “You’ll always be her little girl, Nora. And your little girl is the spittin’ image of ya when ya went away.”

  While that information formed a sweet, sentimental picture in her mind, it didn’t make her situation any easier. “What’ll I do?” Nora whispered. “How can I tell Millie about why I left her with Atlee and Lizzie? And what if she won’t have anything to do with me, or—”

  “One thing at a time,” Miriam murmured. “If God has brought ya to this situation, He’ll get ya through it. Ya believe that, don’t ya?”

  Nora sensed she was being tested, yet hadn’t she known she would have to deal with the Old Order faith if she was to reconcile with her family? “He’s about the only chance I’ve got left, ain’t so?”

  The words sounded lame as they tumbled from her mouth, yet Miriam’s lips lifted. “Most of us find ourselves in that position at some time in our lives. But when you’ve landed at the bottom of the pit, the only way to go is up.” She glanced toward the back window. “Ben just went into the smithy. Let’s go introduce ya.”

  Nora wasn’t all that comfortable with spilling her story to a total stranger, but she didn’t argue. “Ben’s your husband now—Luke and Ira’s brother, right?” she asked as they stepped out into the pale daylight. “Some of the stuff those guys told me yesterday might not have sunk in. I was pretty tired by the time the moving van pulled out.”

  “Being Luke and Ira’s brother doesn’t mean Ben’ll have any control over what they say this morning,” Miriam added with a short laugh. “He’s a gut man, though. He’s a preacher now, on account of how your dat’s retired because of his failin’ health—”

  Nora sighed as they approached the small white smithy she remembered from her childhood. “I had no idea he and Mamma were doing so poorly,” she remarked. “I wondered about them and Millie the whole time I was away, but one thing and another kept me from getting here any sooner.”

  “That’s a story best saved for another day,” Miriam said as she swung open the smithy door. “Bennie, this is the Nora that the Glicks were buzzin’ about yesterday,” she said as she approached the man at the forge. “She’s come back to make peace with her folks, and we’re hopin’ you’ll keep Luke and Ira quiet during breakfast at the bakery so she can meet up with Gabe. She’s bought Hiram’s place, ya see, so they’ve been over to meet their new neighbor.” Miriam smiled at Nora. “This is my husband of seven months, Ben Hooley.” “Nora,” Ben said with a cautious nod. He looked somewhat younger than Miriam, as vibrant as his brothers. The sandy-brown hair and open smile he had in common with Luke looked more compelling on a face framed by a beard. “And ya want to speak with your dat at the café? Why not over at the house?”

  Miriam fitted herself against Ben as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. It was an affectionate gesture Nora had never seen her parents share—nor did she recall Miriam getting this cozy with her first husband, Jesse Lantz. It gave her hope that maybe things in Willow Ridge had loosened up since she was a kid.

/>   “When Dat sent me away from home sixteen years ago, he told me I was never to show my face there again,” she explained. “When your brothers told me he often eats breakfast at the café, I was hoping that if I met him in a public place—” Nora crossed her arms, hugging herself as though to hold body and soul together. “It’s probably another one of my bad ideas.”

  “Well, you’ve got grit, facin’ him in front of everybody,” Ben remarked. “And Tom Hostetler, our bishop, usually sits with your dat, so—”

  “Why do they eat in the café?” Nora blurted. When she realized that Miriam might take offense at her question, she said, “I mean, when I was a kid everybody ate at home.”

  Ben chuckled. “The Sweet Seasons is where I met Miriam,” he replied with an endearing smile. “For a lot of unattached fellas, it’s the best place for miles around to get a gut meal—and eatin’ breakfast here is a way for your dat to get out amongst other people. Even with Millie lookin’ after him and your mamm, he’s been pretty much housebound for the last few years.”

  “And we can hope that if he sits with Bishop Tom this morning,” Miriam went on in a pensive voice, “he’ll not be as inclined to—well, we can’t predict what Gabe might do. But I’m glad you’re givin’ it a try, Nora. Stay brave and pray.”

  Nora’s heart shriveled when she pictured her father’s negative reaction to seeing her, yet Miriam’s words rang with an air of confidence. Stay brave and pray. Hadn’t such a sentiment kept her going through a lot of tough times, even if she hadn’t expressed it so succinctly? Even if she hadn’t prayed as often as she should have?

  “No matter how your dat reacts, though,” Miriam continued as she gazed at Nora, “it’s your mamm and Millie and Lizzie who need to know why you’re back in Willow Ridge. Your return’s gonna tear their lives apart in different ways, but it’s always the women who can put the pieces together again and move on. Where there’s a woman, there’s a way.”

  Nora’s mouth opened and then closed. How had Miriam managed to portray the most dismal storm and then paint a rainbow arching over the clouds? “Thank you,” she murmured. “No matter what happens, I appreciate your help.”

  Luke entered the Sweet Seasons in fine fettle Friday morning, itching to tell Matthias Wagler and the Brenneman brothers that he’d met the mystery person who’d bought Hiram’s house—mostly to let them know he had first dibs on her. Matthias, the local harness maker, was Nora’s neighbor on the other side, and a widower. He was likely to be feeling more pinched by his single state now that his younger brother Adam had married Annie Mae and brought her five younger siblings to live with them. Luke hoped to dissuade Matthias’s interest in the sizzling redhead who was keeping more secrets than she could cram into her red BMW’s trunk—

  “So where do ya suppose Nora got off to so early?” Ira was saying as the café’s bell jingled above their heads. “Seems odd that she didn’t have any lamps lit—”

  “That’s none of your beeswax,” Luke muttered, grabbing his brother’s arm. “And if she figures out you’ve been peering through her windows—”

  “Like you haven’t!” Ira retorted, jerking away from Luke’s grasp. “You’re so far gone you’re gonna trip over your tongue and—”

  “Mornin’, fellas. It’s gut to see the two of ya ready for another day of workin’ together at the mill.” Ben rose from a table near the door with a purposeful smile. “I was hopin’ you’d join me for breakfast. My treat.”

  Luke’s eyebrows rose. Though he got along fine with his older brother, Ben’s generosity struck him as . . . fishy. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Do I need a reason to buy you boys a meal?” Ben asked as he gestured toward the buffet line at the other side of the dining room. Then he smiled at Rebecca, Miriam’s English-raised daughter who often waited tables during the early shift. “Coffee all around, and a big glass of milk for Ira. He’s a growin’ boy, ya know.”

  As the three of them made their way between the tables, Luke looked around. All the regulars seemed to be in their usual places. He nodded when Seth and Aaron Brenneman greeted him, and noted the table of English fellows from down the road who often ate here. Bishop Tom and Gabe Glick were headed for their habitual corner table. The retired preacher seemed more stooped this morning, and he didn’t argue when Tom offered to carry his steaming plate from the buffet.

  “Happy Friday morning to ya,” Miriam called out as she bustled from the kitchen with a basket that held three brown, rounded loaves of bread. “We’re featurin’ the five-grain bread mix from your mill today, Luke—and Naomi’s stirrin’ up more sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, and onions so ya can make haystacks with the hash browns, too.”

  Luke snatched three slices of the bread, which were so dense with grains and dried fruit that he nearly crammed a slice into his mouth on the spot. As he mounded hash browns on his plate, Seth Brenneman joined them at the steam table for his second plateful. He seemed particularly cheerful as he greeted the three of them.

  “Gut thing I got here before you Hooleys loaded up,” he teased.

  “Unless I miss my guess, you’ll be tankin’ up at your own breakfast table before long,” Ira replied. “You and Mary looked mighty tight at the wedding yesterday.”

  Seth couldn’t hide his grin. “We’ll do the finishin’ work on her house this week, so she and the kids’ll be movin’ into it by next weekend. Yesterday I asked her if I could join them as the man of the family, and Mary said yes!”

  “That’s gut news even if it comes as no surprise,” Ben replied, clapping Seth on the back. “I figured it was a go when she came to town with Sol and Lucy last Christmas, when ya helped deliver baby Emmanuel. Givin’ yourselves plenty of time to get acquainted was the best idea for all of ya.”

  As his brothers chatted with Seth, Luke filled his plate and returned to the table. He recalled how Seth had rescued Mary Kauffman mere hours before she gave birth at the local clinic—and how the idea of getting romantically involved with a widow who had three little kids had repelled him. It was nearly the same situation Adam Wagler had married into yesterday, agreeing to raise Annie Mae’s four little siblings and take in her teenage sister, Nellie. Adam was asking for trouble, too, because Hiram Knepp wouldn’t leave well enough alone. What was it with these bachelors who’d sacrificed their happy lives to raise other men’s kids?

  Well, now that you’re thirty, what sort of women are left to hook up with? They’ve all been married, and they all carry baggage—

  “Here you go, Luke.” Rebecca set their three mugs of coffee on the table along with Ira’s milk. “I’ll be back in a few to be sure everything’s the way you like it.”

  “Denki, Rebecca,” Luke murmured. He’d had his share of fantasies about their waitress—Miriam’s daughter had been raised by adoptive English parents after they’d rescued her during a flood years ago. She was a looker, she was single, and she made no bones about keeping her computer business rather than joining the Old Order. It was a combination he found very attractive.

  And yet, as Ben and Ira took their seats at the table and began to eat, Luke’s thoughts wandered toward his new redheaded neighbor. Nora Landwehr was divorced, Hiram had said, but he hadn’t revealed why a woman who could afford such a prime property would choose to move to Willow—

  Luke’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. Nora was standing in the kitchen doorway!

  She wore a brown cape dress with a matching apron and a white kapp. Her pale face and tight expression quelled Luke’s urge to blurt out a greeting, but he watched her pass between the tables with great interest. Why was she dressed Plain? And why would she be heading toward the corner where Bishop Tom and Gabe Glick were sitting? Ira was digging into his breakfast, but Ben sat taller, watching Nora as though he sensed something intense was about to happen.

  The chatter around them masked what Nora was saying. Bishop Tom’s eyes widened in recognition as Gabe Glick threw down his fork and struggled to his feet. His scowl could’v
e soured cream—and Nora stepped back when he flashed it at her. She said something else to the old preacher, pleading with wide eyes that spoke of great pain and remorse, but Gabe pointed vehemently toward the door.

  “Get thee behind me, Satan!” he snapped.

  The dining room went silent. As all eyes turned to witness the drama unfolding in the corner, Luke didn’t care what quarrel the old preacher had with Nora. A protective urge surged within him and he stood up so fast, his chair fell over backwards.

  Ben grabbed his wrist. “Leave it be, Luke,” he murmured. “We need to let God’s will run its course.”

  The bell above the door jangled, but Luke didn’t turn to see who’d come in. His list of reasons for not joining the Old Order had just gotten longer. Gabe began to hobble from the table, slapping Nora’s arm when she tried to assist him. Murmurs rose around the room and Tom stood up.

  “Gabe, there’s a better way,” the bishop insisted as he caught up to the preacher. “Maybe it’s time to reconsider—”

  “I don’t have a daughter,” Gabe huffed as he shuffled toward the door. Then he raised his head. “Millie. Take me home, child. Now.”

  Luke turned in time to see Millie’s hands fly to her mouth. She was staring so intently at Nora that she didn’t realize the door was opening behind her, or that Hiram Knepp couldn’t come inside. As the excommunicated bishop of Willow Ridge took in the scene, his coal-black mustache and goatee made him look downright wicked. A grin lit his chiseled face. He knew exactly what was happening, and he was delighted to be watching it play out.

  Did he orchestrate this scene ? Luke mused. Hiram had surely seen Millie entering the café. Perhaps he’d been lurking near the smithy or peering into the window of the Sweet Seasons kitchen, aware that Nora was inside. Luke wondered how long Nora had been back there with Miriam and Naomi, but he had no such questions about Knepp’s motives. Hiram’s devious ways knew no limits.