Risking Her Amish Heart
Автор
Jackie Stef
Прочтений
16,5K
Глав
18
Chapter One
“Daadi? Are you home?”
Grace Ebersol had just arrived at her grandfather’s stone cottage with her suitcase in hand. It was a hot, humid July day in the village of Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, and she was eager to get out of the sun. A gust of earthy-scented air whipped around her, causing the ribbons of her heart-shaped kapp to flap against her face. Perhaps a thunderstorm was brewing, and for sure and for certain, the local farmers were praying for rain.
Summertime in Lancaster County normally brought twenty-three-year-old Grace endless amounts of pleasure. She adored the special time of year when sunflowers and cornstalks stood tall and proud. She enjoyed the sight of gardens bursting with homegrown produce and watching lightning bugs twinkle above fields of soybeans, alfalfa, and golden wheat once night blanketed the quiet countryside. She also usually looked forward to the times when she joined her unmarried peers for picnics, volleyball games, and work frolics.
However, this year Grace couldn’t muster the slightest bit of enthusiasm for all that summer had to offer, not when her heart had been broken and her world turned upside down.
Keep it together. Daadi needs you, so you have to stay strong.
Grace exhaled forcefully to keep her emotions from bubbling over. She couldn’t focus on her sorrow now, not when she’d come to cook and keep house for her elderly grandfather.
Daadi Eli was nearing his eighty-first birthday and until recently, he’d been as nimble as a man who was one-fourth of his age. After losing his wife, Grossmammi Katie, five years ago, Eli had started physically slowing down. He continued to run his custom furniture-making business from the woodshop that was located only a few dozen rooster steps away from the cottage, though Grace wondered how much longer he would be able to keep up that pace.
Grace knocked again and pressed her ear on the door, then listened for any movement on the other side. When she didn’t hear a peep, she tried the doorknob and found that the door was unlocked.
She was pleased to see that things were tidy when she stepped into the small kitchen. Some of her siblings and cousins had been taking turns looking in on rapidly aging Eli, but now it would be Grace’s role to care for her grandfather and his cottage. Grace was tenderhearted, cared deeply for others, and eagerly volunteered to come to her Daadi’s aid. Cooking, cleaning, and providing companionship for her good-natured grandfather would be a pleasure. She’d be staying here in Bird-in-Hand until a daadi haus could be built onto her father’s farmhouse for Eli to move into, though she hoped that project would take longer than expected, allowing her to enjoy the change of pace and scenery for as long as possible.
Hopefully keeping busy will provide a decent distraction. Goodness knows that I’ve been dwelling on my pain for far too long, Grace thought as she placed her suitcase on the shining linoleum floor. Her soul craved a respite from the constant gloom that she just couldn’t shake. Memories of happier times plagued her like a stubborn cold that one just couldn’t get over, no matter how much chicken soup they consumed.
Grace hurried across the kitchen to search the other rooms for Daadi but paused when she noticed a yellow legal tablet on the small kitchen table. A note had been written in unsteady handwriting.
“‘Wilkumme, Gracie. Denki for coming to help your alt Daadi. I’ll be in the woodshop when you arrive. Take your time settling in, and I’ll look forward to catching up with you at suppertime. Love, Daadi.’”
She grinned, imagining her grandfather’s warm voice as her turquoise eyes scanned the note. Satisfied that everything was just as it should be, she picked up her suitcase and made her way through the cottage to the spare bedroom.
The familiar room was just as quaint and inviting as she remembered it to be. It was small, though it had two large windows that let in plenty of light as well as provided a magnificent view of Mill Creek, the gentle stream that separated Daadi’s property from the neighboring farm. A lovely pink, purple, and white quilt stitched in a wedding ring pattern adorned the bed, which had undoubtedly been sewn by Grossmammi Katie. The room didn’t have a closet, but it was home to a large oak dresser that had been expertly handcrafted by Daadi himself, and that was worth more than two closets to Grace.
Deciding to make herself at home, Grace hefted her suitcase onto the bed and undid the latch. She unpacked her clothing, grooming items, stationery, journal, cross-stitching supplies, and well-loved Bible. When everything was neatly stowed away in its proper place, she sat on the bed and surveyed the room. It was simply decorated to the extent that any Amish bedroom would be, yet it felt empty.
She let out a long sigh, knowing that it wasn’t the room that was truly empty.
Grace Ebersol and Ben Zook had been close childhood friends, and their friendship had developed into something more by the time they reached their teenage years. Grace had fallen deeply in love with her beau and had every reason to believe that he had the same feelings for her. As time went on and Grace watched many of her female friends tie the knot, she’d told herself that it wouldn’t be long until it was her turn to be a bride. She was starting to feel impatient but decided to wait for Ben’s proposal. After all, he was the love of her life, and love was worth the wait.
A lot of good that decision did for me. Grace groaned inwardly as she recalled the night that Ben had suddenly broken off their relationship and promptly left their Amish community in one swift move. The unexpected loss of her beau and childhood friend to the outside world felt like a slap in the face, and the sting of that slap never seemed to lessen over time. Nearly eight months had passed since the incident that had turned her world upside down, yet the wound still felt fresh.
Eight months of heartbreak. Eight months of people pestering me to move on, Grace thought as she wiped her teary eyes on the hem of her black apron. Her friends and family urged her to look on the bright side and consider giving love another chance, insisting that plenty of decent fish were in the sea. After the initial sting of her grief had passed, Grace slowly resumed seeking small moments of joy in her daily life. However, she would not allow herself to be tricked by another man into a meaningless courtship ever again. Her heart had been shattered once, and once was enough.
The sound of squeaking door hinges echoed from the other end of the cottage. Daadi must’ve come in to see if she’d arrived. Knowing that she looked a sight from her brief emotional spell, Grace took a moment to compose herself before exiting the bedroom.
As she made her way down the short hallway, Grace heard the gas-powered refrigerator door open, the glass milk bottles it held gently clanging together from the movement.
“Daadi? Are you hungerich? Would you like me to make you something to eat?” Grace asked as she rounded the corner before letting out a shrill gasp.
A young Amish man whom she didn’t recognize stood near the kitchen counter, pouring something into one of two large thermoses. Though he was tall and muscular, he flinched at her gasp like a startled fawn. His blue shirt and black trousers were both covered in sawdust, and a few wood shavings clung to his unruly golden-brown hair.
They stared at each other for several long seconds, both frozen in place.
“I’m just getting some meadow tea,” the man finally said as he began filling the second thermos.
“I can see that!” Grace let out a huff. “I think you may have the wrong haus.”
The man shook his head, causing several wood shavings to flutter down to the floor. “Nee, I work with Eli out in the woodshop. Just came in to refill our cups.”
Grace’s hand flew to her chest. “I guess that’s why you’re so dusty.” She took a deep breath then exhaled, allowing her heart rate to slow. “You really startled me.”
“Sorry about that,” he gruffly responded.
“Ach, no harm done.”
Grace offered him a friendly smile but the young fellow immediately dropped his gaze to the floor.
“My name is Grace Ebersol. I’m one of Eli’s kinnskind.” She stepped forward and held out her hand.
“Aaron King,” the man replied, with a small grin that looked more like a grimace. He accepted her hand and gave it a quick, half-hearted shake before placing the plastic pitcher of tea back in the refrigerator.
“It’s gut to meet you,” Grace replied, feeling some gritty sawdust on her palm. She inconspicuously wiped her hand on the back of her plum-colored dress. “I live over in Paradise, but I’ll be staying here with Daadi for a while.”
She expected Aaron to comment or ask a question, but he remained silent. Was there something that he didn’t like about her? Maybe he was just having a bad day and didn’t feel like chatting.
Grace kept her winning smile and pressed on. “Can I get you and Daadi something to eat? I’d be glad to make some sandwiches and bring them to the shop.”
“Nee, denki,” Aaron answered so quietly that Grace was barely able to make out what he’d said. He secured the lids of both thermoses, took one in each hand, and headed for the door.
Grace followed after him. “Are you sure? Maybe you’d like some...”
“Not now, denki.” Cradling one of the thermoses in the crook of his arm, he reached for the doorknob and stepped outside. “See you later.” As he closed the door behind him without waiting for Grace to reply, several more wood shavings fell out of his hair and clothing, leaving a mess on the floor.
Grace stood motionless, her hands on her hips and her mouth hanging open. She’d never met such a blunt, awkward fellow. Not only had he been short with her, but he’d also left a trail of wood shavings through the kitchen for her to clean up.
First my former beau, and now Aaron King. One inconsiderate man left my life and now another one shows up, Grace grumbled to herself, groaning inwardly as she went in search of a broom and dustpan.
Well, that could have gone better, Aaron King huffed to himself as he plodded back to Eli Ebersol’s woodshop and kicked at a small stone that lay in his path. Ever since his childhood days, Aaron had been the shy, awkward type. As a young boy, he’d hoped that he’d develop a strong sense of self-confidence by the time he reached his teenage years, but that didn’t happen. Even now, just after his twenty-fifth birthday, Aaron remained just as bashful and uncertain as he had been in his youth. He felt like a bumbling fool when interacting with someone he didn’t know well, and that feeling was magnified when in the presence of a beautiful woman.
Grace Ebersol was the definition of natural beauty, with her ebony hair, spattering of freckles, and the bluest eyes that Aaron had ever seen. More importantly, she seemed kindhearted and friendly, just like her grandfather.
I wish Eli would have given me a heads-up that he had company, Aaron thought as he passed through the woodshop’s storm door. Maybe I could have made a better first impression if we hadn’t startled each other.
Aaron walked across the woodshop and inhaled the scent of lumber and wood stain, two familiar odors that brought him comfort. He’d worked for Ebersol’s Country Furniture for nearly five years, after working several years for a Mennonite construction company. He loved being able to turn a few pieces of wood into a hope chest, rocking chair, or dining table, and he took great care in crafting the finest pieces under Eli’s tutelage. Plus, Eli always greeted and assisted customers, meaning Aaron could stay behind the scenes in the workshop, where he was most comfortable.
Aaron found Eli brushing cherry-colored stain onto a rocking chair that he had finished sanding earlier that day. The old man’s brushstrokes were somewhat shaky, so Eli made sure to go over bits where the bristles had previously missed.
“Here’s your cold tea,” Aaron said as he handed his employer one of the thermoses, holding it firmly until he was sure that Eli had a steady grasp on the cup.
Eli grinned and took a sip of the chilled meadow tea. “Denki. I needed something to wet my whistle.” He took another long sip before slowly placing the thermos on a nearby workbench. “You didn’t happen to run into my kinnskind, Gracie, did ya?”
Aaron placed his thermos next to Eli’s. “Jah, she was in the haus. We scared each other half to death.”
Eli’s eyes brightened behind his thick glasses. “Gut, I’m glad she made it here safely. She hired a driver to get here, and I always worry about folks riding in maschien, going way too fast for my liking.”
Aaron nodded, understanding Eli’s concerns. He picked up a paintbrush, dipped it into the can, and began applying even coats of stain on the back of the rocking chair, focusing first on the six spokes of the backrest.
“Gracie’s from Paradise, where most of my familye live,” Eli went on as he picked up his brush and resumed staining the front of the chair. “Her daed and brieder are working on building a daadi haus onto their place for me, which I’ll be moving into as soon as it’s completed.”
Aaron looked up from his work and stared at his employer, wondering if he’d heard that correctly. A buggy ride from Paradise to Bird-in-Hand was long and inconvenient to take daily, and hiring a driver to bring him to and from the woodshop would soon become expensive. He hoped Eli wasn’t thinking of moving the business to Paradise or shutting it down altogether. It would be disheartening to lose a job that he enjoyed so much.
“If it’s not overstepping my place, I’m wondering what you plan to do with the business,” Aaron quietly voiced, keeping his eyes trained on the spokes as he went back to brushing on the stain.
Eli chortled then coughed. “Worried about your job?”
“A little,” Aaron replied, feeling his face grow warm.
“Ach, no need to be,” Eli said, his voice full of familiar reassurance. “I’ve been thinking of the best time for us to have this conversation, but now that Gracie is here, the cat’s nearly out of the bag.” He waited for Aaron to look him in the eye. “I’m getting too alt to keep up with the demands of the woodshop, and I’d like to pass on the business to you, with a few conditions.”
“What?” Aaron exclaimed, dropping his paintbrush. He caught it before it hit the dusty floor, but covered his hands with stain in the process.
Eli chuckled as he rose from his seat. “You’re a fine yung craftsman, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather pass along my business to.” He shuffled over to a cardboard box that was filled with clean rags, selected one, and tossed the cloth to Aaron.
Aaron caught the rag and wiped the sticky liquid from his hands. “Are you sure about this? Wouldn’t you rather pass on the business to one of your kinner or kinnskind?”
Eli lowered himself onto the squeaky stool beside the workbench. “I considered that, but the younger generation is keen on dairy farming. My sons both inherited farms from their wives’ familye, and their sons want to partner in those operations, except for one who is apprenticing as a blacksmith.” Eli smiled, causing his deep wrinkles to swallow his features. “You show great interest in carpentry and even greater skill.”
“I... I don’t have enough money saved up to buy the business from you,” Aaron admitted, using his financial state to cover up his feelings of inadequacy.
Eli waved his gnarled hand through the air, brushing away Aaron’s excuse. “I’m not looking to make a profit. I just want to retire and pass along Ebersol’s Country Furniture into capable hands, hands that would run the place just as I would.”
Though he didn’t believe himself capable of running such a successful business, Aaron felt honored that Eli thought so highly of him. “W-what are the conditions you mentioned earlier?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Eli said with what almost sounded like relief. “You will be completely in charge of things around here as of right now. I’ll watch as you talk with customers, order supplies, and keep up with the bookkeeping. You need to prove to yourself, and to me, that you have the confidence to run the woodshop. If you can’t prove this, I’ll have to ask someone else to take over for me, and I’d like to avoid that, if possible.”
Aaron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d always dreamed of owning a carpentry shop, but he’d thought it nothing more than a pipe dream. He knew he lacked the self-assurance it would take to make important decisions, and due to his shyness, he lacked the people skills he’d need to interact with customers. Yet if he didn’t force himself to step up to the plate, he’d miss out on this opportunity, one that any young carpenter would jump at.
“Denki for believing in me, Eli. I think you’re the first person who ever has,” Aaron finally said after several minutes of internal debate. “I’d be honored to take over the business when you’re ready to retire.”
“Gut, that’s just what I wanted to hear,” Eli cheered, offering his unsteady hand to Aaron.
They shook hands and the deal was sealed.
Aaron was completely overwhelmed by Eli’s generosity, and for the first time in ages, he felt excited about the future.
“There’s one more thing I’d like to discuss,” Eli added as he peeked over his shoulder and scanned the workshop. “I have a small favor to ask.”
Aaron had resumed staining the rocking chair, more eager than ever to please his boss. “I’ll be froh to help in any way that I can,” he said with sincerity, willing to go out of his way to help Eli after the man had acted so selflessly.
Eli looked around the shop once more as if to make sure they were alone. “What did you think of my Gracie when you met her?”
Aaron felt some perspiration gather on his forehead. The way that Eli lowered his voice and asked such a direct question made him uneasy. The first thing he’d noticed about Grace was her beauty. Even in her plain Amish dress and apron, she was as lovely as the first flowers of spring after a bone-chilling winter.
“She seems nice,” Aaron finally replied without looking up from his work.
“Ach, she is. She’s as sweet as a sticky bun, and you won’t meet anyone with a gentler heart.” Eli took off his straw hat and ran his fingers through his thin, gray hair. “Gracie’s had a rough few months, and it worries our familye to see her so glum. She does her best to hide her sadness, but I can tell that she’s hurting something awful.”
Aaron peered through the spokes of the chair, which had now been stained on all sides. “What’s she so bedauerlich about?”
Eli placed his hat back on his head with a grunt. “That’s not my story to share, but she might share it with you...someday.”
“Oh?”
“I was hoping that you could befriend her. Maybe you could offer to take her out to lunch or invite her to one of the gatherings for die youngie. She’ll be living here for a couple of months, and she doesn’t know anyone around these parts except for her alt Daadi. Having a close-in-age friend, someone to confide in, does wonders for the soul, jah?”
Aaron fidgeted with the paintbrush. Why, of all things, was Eli asking him to befriend Grace? Asking him to enter a social situation was like asking a fish to walk on land. How was he supposed to get to know Grace when he barely dared to look her in the eye? He struggled severely when it came to opening up to new people, and for that reason, he’d given up on ever finding love and starting a family of his own.
How can I turn Eli down after he’s offered to give me his business? Aaron’s hands trembled as he dipped the paintbrush back into the can of stain. Perhaps he’d been too hasty when he’d agreed to take over the woodshop.
“I guess I can try to talk with her sometime,” he finally conceded as he began to stain the seat of the rocking chair, “though I can’t promise that she’ll be interested in talking with me. That’s probably a lost cause.”
Eli’s face glowed with the warmth of a gas lantern. “All I ask is that you try, but I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by Gracie. She cares deeply for folks, and she’s easy to talk to.”
Aaron didn’t look up from his work but nodded his response. She’ll have to be a very special woman to make any sort of connection with me. Feeling prematurely defeated, he swiped the stain over the rocking chair’s seat, wishing he hadn’t felt so obligated to comply with Eli’s request.
