The Way to a Man's Heart (The Miller Family 3) Page 7

  Once they arrived at Emma’s parents’ home, James breathed a sigh of relief. The peaceful serenity of the Miller farm amazed him. Hollyhock was a beehive of constant activity, but here the pace was slower and calmer. Yet the Millers still managed to get chores done without livestock going hungry or the petunia bed drying up. He hoped for this atmosphere for his own home, where he and Emma would raise a family in an Amish household without the constant reminders of his former English world.

  Emma kissed his cheek. “Danki, Jamie. You won’t be sorry you sought my bruder’s advice. Everyone has a special gift from God. Matthew’s is horses.” She quickly ran off toward the house, so she didn’t witness him clenching down on his back molars or notice the steam coming from his nostrils.

  “Come on, little brother,” he said a moment later. “Let’s go find the horse whisperer. I apparently have plenty to learn.”

  An hour later, James Davis had been duly humbled.

  Matthew Miller demonstrated incredible expertise with his driving horses. In his patient, quiet manner he not only got the beast to do his bidding, but he taught James without the least bit of condescension. And he had used a horse belonging to a friend for the demonstration, not one of his own.

  So nothing would bruise my ego or typical male pride. Emma was right, he thought, feeling ashamed.

  Matthew gave him plenty of pointers and then suggested that he ride back with them to Hollyhock Farms. Because tomorrow was his day off, he could spend time coaching James and his gelding. Kevin readily agreed to drive Matt back to Winesburg in time for afternoon chores.

  Emma was joyous for extra time with a family member.

  Kevin was happy to do anything not connected with college or textbooks.

  And James? He would pick a large bouquet of flowers for his wife when they got home and maybe throw in a foot rub.

  Proverbs 29:23, which he couldn’t recall during the drive to the Miller farm, popped into his head on the way back. Pride ends in humiliation, while humility brings honor.

  He would try to do better.

  But it sure wasn’t easy learning how to live all over again.

  June

  The diner was booming. Just as the regular customers tired of fresh strawberry waffles and pancakes, local blueberries were ready to pick. Although neither restaurateur had time enough to visit pick-your-own farms, the berries were plentiful and fairly priced at the local market. April still didn’t have sufficient cash flow to advance a weekly stipend for baking supplies, but she paid Leah’s wages on time and insisted she keep all tips, no matter who had served the table. Leah wasn’t about to quibble over dollars and cents now that she had handed over twenty-five hundred dollars and been made a full partner.

  Wednesday was an auction day; Daniel and Steven always stopped in for breakfast before heading there.

  “Guder mariye, Leah,” Daniel called as they entered. Steven repeated the greeting when Leah brought over mugs of coffee.

  Leah noticed that a third young man had joined them. “Hello,” she said. “Welcome to Leah’s Home Cooking.”

  He blushed profusely and stammered, “How do, miss, my name’s John.” He then buried his head behind the menu, not easily accomplished with a single sheet of paper.

  “He’s shy, Miss Miller,” Daniel said. “Doesn’t get much chance to come to town, being that he’s the only son on a very large farm.” With that explanation John lowered the menu and smiled tentatively.

  “Hmm,” she murmured, glancing at customers arriving and several waiting by the cash register. “How about three specials of the day—blueberry pancakes?”

  “Done!” Daniel said. He grabbed the other menus to hand to her. “Did I ever tell you my trade?” He leaned slightly forward while Leah scribbled down the order.

  “No, I don’t think so.” The bell jingled, signaling the arrival of more customers. She turned her focus back to the men.

  “I’m a blacksmith. I apprenticed under my daed, and he’s the best in the county. We repair lots of farm equipment and make tools. Besides that I’m a farrier, in case you ever need shoes.”

  She leveled him a look over her tablet. “In case I need shoes? Do I look like a horse?” The other two men howled with laughter. “I need to get this order in if you want to make the auction on time.” She hurried off without listening to red-faced Daniel’s blustering excuses.

  Every seat at the counter was filled and most of the booths too.

  Ten minutes later, when she brought their breakfasts to the table, Steven said, “I’m a furniture maker at the large Amish oak showroom on the state route. I started as a carpenter and I’ve advanced to full master craftsman.” He gazed up into her face.

  She had no clue how to respond, and all the eye contact was making her nervous. After an uncomfortable pause she asked, “Do any of you want maple syrup?”

  After three negative nods, Leah went to her other customers. During the short lull between breakfast and lunch she found April slicing cucumbers and tomatoes.

  “Men can be so strange,” Leah said with a weary sigh. “Those two Amish boys brought one of their friends, and each decided to tell me his life story. My busiest time of day, and they wanted to explain what they did for a living. Why did they think I needed to know all that?”

  April lifted her brows quizzically and peered at her. “You’re joking, right?”

  “About what?” Leah asked, artfully topping the lettuce on side salads with radish and carrot curls along with purple cabbage.

  “You really don’t know why Amish boys would try to impress you with their achievements or standing in the community?”

  Leah stopped making salads and turned toward her boss as realization germinated in her head. “Oh, no,” she moaned. “You don’t think they’re out to court me, do you? And vying for attention by trying to impress me?” She scowled at the blatant shamefulness of the whole idea.

  April laughed. “That’s pretty much how I see it. What’s the matter with you? Most girls would be flattered by three men flirting with her.” She returned to making a sweet-and-sour cucumber salad with a shake of her head.

  Leah thought for a minute. A part of her did enjoy their flirting. It surely was more interesting to talk to young men, all handsome at that, than listen to elderly counter customers rehash the good old days before Amish culture became a tourist attraction. But still, it made her feel guilty too, as though she were behaving boldly or in a manner her daed wouldn’t approve of.

  “I am a little flattered, but it also makes me feel like a critter on display at the auction barn before the bidding starts. And I sure don’t like that!”

  April patted her arm on her way to the swinging doors. “You have an unusual way with words as well as with pies. But you’re right about men…they can be strange at times. I’m going to wipe down the tables and counter again so we’ll be ready.”

  “That reminds me. Is it all right if I leave early today? Say, right at three o’clock? I’m working up a couple new pie recipes and I’d like to talk to Mrs. Byler about her cream cheeses.”

  “Sure thing. Give Joanna my best regards. Oh, and say hello to Jonah for me too.” She winked with great exaggeration.

  “I’ll do the lion’s share of the cleanup tomorrow.” The door swung closed behind April, so Leah’s reply echoed in an empty room. She was glad she was alone, because just the mention of Jonah Byler’s name caused her face to flush and her palms to sweat. That man had some strange powers she didn’t appreciate one bit.

  The afternoon flew by with plenty of business on the warm summer day. Many chose to carry their lunch out to the picnic tables, despite having to come inside for drink refills. One overdressed Englischer in a wide-brimmed hat and high heels asked if tableside service was available at the outdoor seating. When Leah momentarily gaped at her, the woman smiled and changed her preference to the next available booth. Another woman sitting at the counter asked for the potato salad recipe. Without looking up from refilling coffee
cups, Leah rattled off, “Redskin potatoes, don’t overcook; sweet red onion; chopped boiled eggs, no yokes; diced celery; sour cream not mayo; salt and pepper to taste.”

  When Leah finally made eye contact with the customer, the woman looked taken aback. So much for improving my people skills.

  Promptly at three o’clock Leah hitched up her buggy and headed to the largest Amish dairy farm in the area. She’d washed her face before leaving and changed her kapp. She’d also brushed her teeth and sprayed on a little of Emma’s forgotten peach body mist. Yet despite her efforts, she was totally unprepared when Jonah, instead of Mrs. Byler, answered her knock at the door.

  “Jonah, I…I thought you’d be in the barn. I was expecting your mamm,” she said, breathlessly.

  “Hello, Leah. Nice to see you. I am allowed out of the barn sometimes, especially for good behavior.” His voice was exasperatingly soft and gentle, without a hint of the nervousness she possessed.

  “I’m glad to hear you’ve been well behaved and haven’t gotten anyone fired recently.” She crossed her arms over her pinafore.

  When he leaned his shoulder against the frame, his bulk almost filled the entire doorway. “I have been exceptional, but I take it you didn’t come to see me?”

  “No, I’ve come to talk to Joanna about cheese, and I’ll probably buy some too. Since I’ve run into you instead, there is something on my mind.” She forced herself to look at him, despite his unnerving effect on her.

  “Want to sit outside?” He pointed toward a bench near the vegetable garden, where a weeping willow tree provided cool shade.

  After a moment’s hesitation, she agreed. It wasn’t comfortable craning her neck like this. Once seated—she tall and straight, he slouched and relaxed—Leah wasted no time with preliminary chitchat. “The other day, why did you leave the diner in such an all-fired hurry?”

  He set his hat on the bench and slicked a hand through his hair. It looked freshly washed and silky.

  “My bowl of oatmeal was finished, you’d forgotten my request for more coffee, and I got tired of waiting for you to come back.”

  “I wanted to apologize for that. April needed to talk to me about something important and it took longer than expected. I plumb forgot about your coffee.”

  “Did she fire you for insulting my grandmother?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Leah refused to be baited.

  “Did she scold you for neglecting one of her regular customers?”

  “No, she said I’ve been good for business and she offered me a full partnership.”

  His face bloomed into a grin. “She didn’t!” He laughed, a husky sound from deep in his throat.

  “She did.” Leah folded her hands primly in her lap, fighting back a smile.

  “Good for you, Leah! Congratulations. Tell Mrs. Lambright I wish her the best of luck with that.” He looked toward the house and rose to his feet. “Ah, there’s my mamm. I’d better get back to work.”

  Leah spotted Joanna carrying a basket of laundry to the clothesline. “Please wait,” she said. “There’s something else I wanted to ask.”

  He was two steps away when he stopped and turned.

  “If you’re Old Order like us, and I know this road is part of our district, why is it you never come to preaching services?”

  He studied her before answering. “Why are you so curious, Leah Miller?”

  “That’s just how I am.” But her courage began to wane. If he had been shunned for something terrible, he probably didn’t want to talk about it. “Of course, if you’d rather not say, I understand. I don’t mean to be rude…again.”

  Jonah came back to the bench. “It’s not a mystery, so don’t worry. My mamm and I moved here a few months ago after my daed died. We came from Hancock, Wisconsin. Have you ever been there?”

  Leah shook her head but remained silent.

  “Pretty place, really, but my mamm wanted to live with her parents. They’re getting up in years. So she sold the farm and we moved.” He looked at her with eyes filled with sorrow. “I didn’t have much say in the matter and dawdi needed my help, so I left my friends and everything I knew and came here. I’ll start attending preaching services soon. My grandmother has been bugging me about that. Up until recently I’ve been traveling back to Wisconsin on the bus to help my uncle. He hurt his back and hasn’t been able to hire any help. He bought our old farm and combined it with his. When his sons are older, he’ll have all the help he needs, and there will be an extra house when one of my cousins marries.” He stood again, looking over his shoulder at his mother. “You’d better speak to her while she’s hanging clothes, and I need to get set up for afternoon milking.”

  Leah rose too. “I’m sorry that I pried, Jonah.”

  All vestiges of sorrow vanished from his face. “You can make it up to me with a free cup of coffee. Then we’ll call it even.” He marched off without a backward glance.

  As Leah watched him leave, she had to rack her brain for why she’d come to see Joanna Byler in the first place. She had imagined some big scandal, while Jonah had simply been helping his uncle with his now larger farm responsibilities.

  First, poor service, now asking nosy questions…she certainly wasn’t impressing this young man with her good Christian character.

  Leah found Mrs. Byler on the back porch folding laundry she had taken off the line. The woman helpfully explained the cheeses she produced and how each might be used in cooking and baking.

  “I’d like to see the cheesecake recipe you’re working up,” said Mrs. Byler. “Come inside so I can grab my reading glasses.”

  Leah followed her into a large, tidy room smelling faintly of cinnamon. While Joanna studied the recipe, Leah studied the kitchen, even though it wasn’t much different from theirs.

  After a minute Joanna said, “Mmm, this sounds yummy. Are you going to use fresh peaches?”

  “Jah, I want it light and fluffy during the hot summer months. Then I’ll adjust the recipe for the winter and use either bananas or canned peaches and substitute a heavier, richer cheese.”

  “Oh, my. I have just the perfect thing. Stay right there.” Joanna disappeared down the cellar steps.

  Leah happily complied, because from where she stood she could see Jonah in the yard. He was hitching a team of draft horses to the hay wagon. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and even from this distance she could see the strength and power in his arms and shoulders.

  And then she felt a flutter in her stomach she couldn’t quite describe and one that she didn’t quite like. Maybe she was coming down with the flu or had eaten something well past its prime. Leah hated to think she was becoming like her sister—affected by the mere proximity of a handsome man—because Jonah Byler certainly fit that description.

  Matthew worked a pair of Quarter horses in the ring for most of the morning. He was making good progress with the two-year-olds, and they would soon be ready for the racing circuit. Mr. Mac and the owners were pleased with him. Even Jeff Andrews, who was listed as trainer of record and still oversaw his work, grunted out an occasional compliment.

  He enjoyed his job. The pay was good; in fact, he’d been promised another raise at the end of the month. If his savings account continued to grow at its current rate, he’d soon be able to start seriously courting. But he refused to pursue any woman without the means to build their own home. As much as he loved his daed, he’d rather not subject a bride to living with the deacon. He still remembered the first few months after Aunt Hannah moved in with them. Wool flew in all directions until those two finally made their peace. Now they got along fine, but it hadn’t always been that way. He would rather start off married life with a few less obstacles.

  Unfortunately, his courage around women was not growing as fast as his bank account. It was so much easier to deal with horses. He could look into a mare’s big brown eyes and know exactly what she was thinking. Not so with females of the human variety. What were they constantly whispering about after preachi
ng services? And they never seemed to run out of things to talk about the way he did with his friends. He would probably save a king’s ransom before summoning enough courage to ask out a certain girl.

  At least he was making progress at Sunday singings. He not only had said hello to Martha Hostetler, but goodbye as well. And he thought he’d seen her glancing in his direction once or twice between songs. He planned to sit across from her next Sunday and ask about her vegetable stand on the county road. Emma advised him to find common ground and then get the gal talking about herself. Because he’d once sold eggs at a roadside stand, this was the best common ground he could think of.

  As he led the two twin fillies back to their stalls, he saw Jeff Andrews returning from the indoor arena with the yearling colt Matthew admired—the same colt Andrews had injected with medication. Feeling a tightness deep in his chest, Matthew noticed that the horse was still limping. As soon as he put his horses away, he approached the head trainer. “I see that colt’s still a little gimpy,” he said in a conversational tone as he knocked dust off his trousers with his work gloves.

  Andrews’ head snapped around. “He’s fine,” he said, “barely limping at all. Much better than last week.”

  Matthew approached until he was very near, so as not to be overheard by other stable help. “Do you think so? I think he’s limping just as badly after a workout. Maybe you should have the vet take a look at that foreleg.”

  Andrews leaned so close Matthew could smell cigarettes and coffee on his breath. “Do you think so, boy? I’m curious as to who died and left you boss?”

  Matt took a step back. “Nobody. I just thought you’d want an objective opinion from someone not working the horse on a daily basis.”