Love Comes to Paradise Page 14

  “No, I’m not ready for bed. I want to stay for a while. You go ahead.”

  He hesitated for a moment. Then he strode up the bank and didn’t glance back.

  Nora sat until almost dark, but lucid thoughts or wise intuition refused to come. She felt more confused than ever. Lewis Miller was like a cool drink of water on a dusty afternoon. In so many ways he was the better man of the two. So why couldn’t she forget about Elam Detweiler once and for all?

  Jonas awoke with a jolt. His troubling dream lingered for several moments until he shook away its last residue. He’d dreamed two stray dogs were fighting in his yard. Every time he tried to break them up, one or the other bit his hand. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to figure out what had triggered the nightmare. He rose as quietly as possible to not wake Emily, slipped on his robe, and padded downstairs. He might as well start the day because he would get no more rest.

  Downstairs, Lewis sat at the kitchen table with his head bowed. Whether the man was deep in thought or in prayer, the aroma of coffee was a welcome greeting. “You’re up early for someone who just finished a cross-country trip.”

  Lewis’s head snapped up. “Too much on my mind to sleep. At the store we serve complimentary coffee to our customers, so I often brew a pot throughout the day. I hope you don’t mind that I made myself at home in your kitchen.”

  “Don’t mind at all. We give it away free at the lumbeyard too. If the secretary doesn’t notice the empty carafe, I’ll expect you to come to the rescue.”

  Lewis poured two mugs and handed Jonas one. “No problem. I’m anxious to learn the ropes. That’s why I couldn’t sleep more than four hours. Considering all your generosity, Jonas, I want to earn your trust and confidence.”

  “Today is Friday—our busy day with Amish customers. On Saturdays we’re packed with Englischers. There’s no other hardware store around for miles. Robert, who you’ll meet this morning, will train you. He has complained about needing help for a long time. Thursday is his normal day off. I’m hoping you’ll catch on by then and will be able to manage alone. For now, your day off will be Wednesday—the same as mine—since we’re riding together. We’re closed on Sundays.”

  Lewis poured milk and sugar into his mug. “Our co-op sells hardware, hand tools, and sheet metal, including roofing materials. I learned how to estimate quantities and costs for homes and commercial buildings. And I’m not shy about asking questions for anything I don’t know.”

  Jonas arched an eyebrow. “In that case we should get along fine. I assumed the Harmony General Store only sold candy, crafts, and sewing supplies, not construction materials.” He carried a pan of blueberry muffins to the table. “On days my fraa works at the shop, she leaves baked goods for breakfast. On Mondays through Wednesdays, she’ll cook us a hot meal of bacon and eggs.”

  Lewis’s color heightened. “Bread and butter would be enough for me. I don’t want your wife fussing over me.”

  “Whatever I eat, you’ll eat. Emily only fusses when and if she chooses. And if she chooses, there’s no stopping her, so don’t worry about it.”

  The younger man nodded, ate three muffins, and set his plate in the sink. “I’ll hitch up the buggy and wait for you outside.” He grabbed his hat and coat.

  Jonas packed the sandwiches and fresh-baked cookies Emily made last night into a soft-sided cooler and followed him out the door. He appreciated a man with initiative—someone who didn’t wait for every sit-down-or-stand-up command. So far, Emily’s idea to hire him at the lumberyard looked better and better. On their way there, Lewis didn’t fill up every minute with useless chatter. He asked some questions about local customs and traditions, listened carefully to the answers, and then watched the passing scenery.

  Even though Lewis was as subtle as a mule in the kitchen regarding Nora, Jonas respected that aspect too. When he’d been courting Emily, he’d had to hold off other suitors with a pitchfork until she agreed to marry him. But as much as Lewis impressed him over the likes of Sally Detweiler’s brother-in-law, Jonas decided not to form an opinion of the superior beau for Nora. He felt young people should sort out romantic concerns without interference. Once he arrived at the lumberyard, however, that conviction became impossible to maintain within fifteen minutes.

  Jonas introduced Lewis to Robert and left the two together for training. When he entered his office to catch up on paperwork, his foreman was waiting inside with a stack of inventory reports and a sour expression.

  “What’s the matter,” Jonas asked. “Nothing biting on last night’s fishing trip with your son-in-law?”

  “I caught two smallmouth bass right at sunset. My wife plans to fry them up for tonight’s supper,” Ken said as he leaned against Jonas’s oak desk. “The fishing was fine. My irritation began in the yard this morning. I came in early to make sure Detweiler was here.”

  Jonas lowered himself into his swivel chair and leaned back. “Was he late again?”

  “Nope. He was right on time, but I heard him bad-mouth the new guy while unloading a semi.” Ken sighed with exasperation. “He told the Amish men that Lewis comes from an odd district where they marry their first cousins, aren’t allowed to talk to Englischers, and the bishop arranges the dates for courting couples.”

  Jonas righted his chair. “None of that is true. My wife’s sister lives in Miller’s town—she’s friends with her English neighbors, and the bishop does not tell them who to marry. Besides, every Amish Ordnung forbids marriage between cousins.”

  “I figured as much but I wasn’t sure. I simply told him ‘more work and less chatter.’ Everyone immediately became very industrious.”

  “Do you want me to speak to him?”

  “Let’s wait while I keep a keen eye on things. I just wanted you to know that for an Amish guy, Detweiler has some rather anti-Amish opinions.” Ken dropped the pile of finished orders into the basket and headed back to the yard.

  For the rest of the morning, Jonas tried to concentrate on his ledgers while wondering if this had been Emily’s plan all along. First she’d talked him into hiring Detweiler. Then she convinced him to take on Miller and invited him into their home. She had to know both men were interested in the same woman—Nora King.

  What could possibly go wrong with that idea?

  While Ken kept an eye on Detweiler, Jonas watched Lewis. The man worked hard, learned quickly, and interacted with customers with friendly attentiveness. He didn’t follow them around pressuring their decision. Instead, he waited patiently to answer questions or write up an order. Lewis possessed an easy rapport with Englischers, which most Amish men lacked. Jonas could only hope that Ken would straighten out misconceptions among the employees, while Jonas would introduce him to the rest of the district. Being the deacon had some advantages. If he took Miller under his wing, few would believe tall tales spread around by a fence-sitter.

  That evening, when Jonas stopped at the mouth of the drive, he felt tired down to his toes. “Why don’t you take the buggy to the barn,” he said to Lewis. “I’ll get out here for the mail and walk the rest of the way.”

  “See you in the house.” With a wave, Lewis drove straight for the barn.

  Jonas loved scanning through the stack first and would read any business correspondence on the porch. Any bad news sounded less loathsome as he rocked in his favorite chair. A small white envelope addressed in Solomon Trask’s spidery handwriting caught his attention…and ruined his Friday night good mood.

  “Meet me at the bishop’s house Sunday afternoon,” he read aloud. “Please bring Emily. Ephraim needs to know about the sorrowful outcome of the extinct Centralia Amish. The wages of sin is death and eternal damnation.” Sol’s warning loomed large on the paper. “We must take immediate steps to avoid such a fate for Paradise.”

  Jonas trudged up the steps into the house, relieved to see Emily’s sweater and bonnet on the peg. The women were home from the bakery. “Emily?” he called.

  She entered the kitchen from the back porc
h. “Why all the commotion, ehemann? Can’t a hardworking gal enjoy a glass of lemonade before she starts supper?” Emily reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

  “Of course, but I wanted to ask you something while we were alone.” He lowered his voice so as not to be heard by their house-guests. “Solomon wants you and me to come to the bishop’s this Sunday—”

  “There’s nothing out of the ordinary about that,” she interrupted. “We usually visit somebody on a non-preaching Sunday.”

  He shook his head. “Sol wants to talk about the Centralia Amish. And he used the word ‘extinct’ in his note. How do you suppose he came up with that term?” Jonas stared at her without blinking.

  Emily emitted a nervous laugh. “Goodness, Jonas, you know how women love to chitchat at work. I might have mentioned the interesting tidbit of local history I read.”

  “Might have?” He didn’t like it when Emily stretched the truth.

  She flushed and crossed her arms. “Okay, I did. I talked about the Centralia folk in front of Violet. She probably told her daed that night at supper. I didn’t know it was a secret.”

  “Ach, it’s not a secret, Em, but I don’t want to rile Sol up over something that happened a hundred years ago.” Jonas filled a glass from the pitcher of water. “We’ll see what the bishop has to say, but be prepared to answer his questions.”

  “I almost memorized everything in that article. Trust me to be accurate.” Emily pulled a pan of meat loaf from the refrigerator.

  “Accurate, jah, but don’t add kindling to Sol’s smoldering fire.” He drank the water in three long gulps.

  Emily lit the oven before turning to face him, her brow furrowed with worry. “Sol isn’t exaggerating about district members bending the Ordnung. I’ve seen it myself in Grain of Life…young women carrying cell phones who have no legitimate need for them.”

  Jonas set down the glass. “What else?”

  She fidgeted with her apron ties. “Some young men meet on Saturday nights to watch the Cardinal game on television.”

  His jaw dropped open. “Watch it where?”

  “At the home of an English neighbor.” Emily began chopping tomatoes and carrots with excessive zeal. “Don’t ask me for names, because I don’t know all of them, but we have problems in this community you don’t want to acknowledge.”

  Jonas heard footsteps in the hallway and knew Nora approached to help with dinner. “Then you’ll have every opportunity to speak your mind on Sunday,” he said quietly, reaching for his hat. He left the kitchen to make sure Lewis had found everything necessary to groom the horse.

  And because he was close to arguing with his fraa—something he refused to do in front of other people.

  TEN

  Shall never lose its power

  Solomon dressed carefully that Sunday. Although there would be no regular church service, he held morning devotions in the front room for his wife, daughter, married children, and their families. After a simple meal of cold food prepared yesterday, the rest of the Trask clan returned home to await the arrival of guests or loaded into buggies to visit nearby friends and neighbors. The off-Sunday was a day of rest, prayer, and socializing.

  But it would be no day of leisure for the district’s two ministers and the deacon. Everyone would meet at Bishop Ephraim’s house. The situation had become too urgent to wait even another day. Learning that Nora wouldn’t attend, Violet opted to stay home reading paperbacks from the Columbia library. The elder Trasks bid their daughter goodbye and drove the three miles in silence.

  “Sol, Rosanna,” greeted Ephraim. “Come in. Tea and zucchini bread await you on the back porch, along with my fraa. She’s having trouble walking since her latest flare-up of arthritis.”

  “There’s no need for Josephine to get up. We stand on no ceremony in Paradise.” Solomon and Rosanna followed the bishop through the kitchen and out the back door. Sol blinked upon spotting Jonas and Emily perched on the glider. The deacon and his fraa never arrived anywhere twenty minutes early. The other minister was already present too. “Where is Margaret today?” asked Sol.

  Peter grinned. “Home with a cold. She didn’t want to spread her germs.”

  The other minister was younger than Solomon by twenty years. District members never considered age a factor when nominating men to draw lots to serve as preachers. Sound judgment, knowledgeable about Scripture, and being temperate in both mood and actions rated much higher. “Tell Margaret we wish her a quick recovery.” Sol and Rosanna settled onto straight-backed chairs.

  While Josephine filled glasses with room temperature tea, Ephraim cleared his throat. “Everyone is here. Solomon called this meeting of the ministerial brethren for an urgent matter.” As his gaze drifted over the assemblage, he smiled warmly. “And just when I thought life was returning to normal. I give the floor to Brother Solomon.”

  His jest produced a few chuckles, while Sol straightened in his chair. “Emily brought something to my attention,” he said, nodding at the deacon’s wife. “A community of Old Order moved to this area many years back. They wished to begin new lives in Audrain County, just south of us. Unfortunately, they didn’t leave Iowa solely for better farmland. They came to rewrite their former Ordnung to conform to their liberal and lax standards. If they didn’t like a particular rule, they changed it or ignored it altogether.” Sol paused, noticing he held the bishop’s attention. “God didn’t look kindly on these brazen people who allowed selfish desires to supplant His Word in their lives.” Jonas scraped his heels on the floor, but Sol ignored it. “God sent heavy rains to destroy their crops, while other years He provided no rain whatsoever. The scorching sun parched the fields and turned their grain to dust. They suffered His wrath for almost two decades until the entire community had either died off or moved away…every man, woman, and child. It would be years before Plain folk ventured back to the inhospitable land of Missouri.” He grasped the lapels of his coat.

  An ashen-faced Ephraim looked at Emily. “Do you have anything to add?”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “It’s how Sol described. I read about the Centralia Amish in a history book on Audrain, Randolph, and Boone Counties at the Columbia library. Either drought or horrific flooding, year after year.”

  Jonas placed his hand atop his wife’s as he addressed the bishop. “This happened more than a century ago, Ephraim. We have no further information about this district other than a couple of paragraphs of secondhand accounts—”

  Solomon snorted. “It makes no difference whether this happened a hundred years ago or a thousand. They disobeyed God and the Amish Ordnung and were punished for their sins.”

  “Do you know which particular rules they found so objectionable?” Ephraim looked from Solomon to Emily.

  “I do not,” said Sol.

  Emily shook her head mutely.

  Ephraim ran long, slender fingers through his snow-white beard. “A tragic tale, to be sure.” He picked up his glass of tea and drank deeply.

  “A cautionary tale,” corrected Sol. “I believe our district is headed down the same path that leads to destruction.”

  “But if we—” interjected Jonas.

  Solomon held up a hand. “Allow me to finish, Deacon. Then you may have your say.” He turned to the bishop. “I have spoken to you before about members allowing kinner to be photographed by tourists. And permitting youth to mingle and converse with English teenagers of the opposite sex without adult supervision.” He sucked air into his lungs. “I have witnessed people working on the Sabbath to produce overpriced goods to sell to the English. They have dishonored the Lord’s Day.”

  “But you’ve spoken with these families, is it not so?” asked Ephraim.

  “I have, but their determination to earn money is great. They may not have heeded my warning.”

  Peter spoke for the first time. “I know one of these families. For the Huffmans, the cost of kidney dialysis is also great. Because John has no insurance, the hospital won’t continue
to treat him without substantial payments toward his medical bill. A man with faulty kidneys will surely die without the regular cleansing of blood.”

  “Better a man dies a humble and devout death than to live long and then spend eternity in the lake of fire.” Sol clenched his fists and set his jaw in a hard line. He wouldn’t back down with so much at stake.

  The bishop bowed his head for a long moment, thinking or perhaps praying. “I will visit the Huffmans tomorrow. We’ll hold fund-raisers and take up a collection. As a district we must ensure John receives necessary medical treatments without placing his eternal soul in jeopardy.”

  Josephine smiled. “Let’s have the zucchini bread. I have baked some with and without nuts.”

  Sol raised his arm like Moses’ staff. “There’s more to this. Emily and my daughter have noticed many young women carrying cell phones in their purses. They call each other without a legitimate need for these phones. Gossip does not constitute an emergency.”

  Ephraim appeared perplexed. “Where do they charge up these phones?”

  “I really have no idea. Perhaps with electricity from propane generators in their fathers’ businesses, or maybe at the home of an English friend.” He spat out the words like a mouthful of wormy apple. “There is too much friendliness with the English. Our young men have taken up watching sports on a neighbor’s television. Probably relaxing in recliners with their feet up, munching popcorn, and rooting for their favorite team.”

  Rosanna touched Solomon’s sleeve but he ignored it. “From our association, the English don’t adopt our simpler ways. Instead, we mimic their competitiveness and materialistic values, where God is no longer first in our lives. Look around, Ephraim. If you don’t take decisive action, we’ll soon see power saws, boom boxes, and Cardinal ball caps at the next barn raising.”

  The bishop paled, as did his wife. “Apparently, my poor health has prevented me from serving diligently. I will remove the blinders from my eyes and observe for myself if we are, indeed, falling away. And I shall speak to the congregation this Sunday about cell phones and television shows and whatever other bad habits we’ve acquired lately. God’s Word is law. I will remind our district of the Ten Commandments and what will be the fate of those who flagrantly disobey.” Ephraim placed a palm on the worn Bible in his lap.