An Amish Cookie Club Courtship Read online

  “I see exactly what’s been going on!”

  Edna dropped her crocheting onto her lap. “The three of you have been scheming behind my back!”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it scheming,” Mary mumbled.

  “Hush now!” Edna pressed her lips together. “Scheming’s exactly what it is. No amount of confectioners’ sugar will sweeten this bitter cookie!”

  Verna looked as if she might burst out laughing.

  “I’m simply shocked,” Edna said at last. Both Mary and Verna knew how difficult Wilma’s two daughters could be. Why on earth would either of them think, for even one minute, that Jeremiah or Jonas would be a good match for Rachel or Ella Mae? In fact, Edna couldn’t imagine anyone being a good match for Rachel or Ella Mae! “If you want your dochders here to learn a thing or two about cooking or how to suppress their contrary opinions and work as a team, well, that I could understand, but to try to marry them off to my boys?”

  Wilma blinked her eyes. “What’s wrong with that?”

  Also by Sarah Price

  Belle: An Amish Retelling of Beauty and the Beast

  Ella: An Amish Retelling of Cinderella

  Sadie: An Amish Retelling of Snow White

  The Amish Cookie Club

  An Amish Cookie Club Christmas

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  An Amish Cookie Club Courtship

  SARAH PRICE

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  “I see exactly what’s been going on!”

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  EPILOGUE

  Teaser chapter

  Teaser chapter

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Price Publishing

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  BOUQUET Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-4919-7

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4922-7 (eBook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-4922-9 (eBook)

  EDNA

  CHAPTER 1

  Edna braced herself for the inevitable: another desperate plea from her friend Wilma.

  It was Wednesday morning and, as she had every week for the past year, Edna had invited her three best friends over to bake cookies for Yoders’ Store in Shipshewana. Edna loved gathering with her friends to bake sweets for the store to sell. It was one of the ways she chose to give back to her small community. Every cookie sold raised money for Amish Aid in the friends’ respective church districts. But, even more importantly, it was a chance for the four Amish women—friends since childhood—to spend time together and socialize. A moment to catch up on the happenings in their individual homes and church districts.

  She’d started the tradition a few years back, when Wilma’s youngest daughters, the twins Rachel and Ella Mae, turned sixteen and their mother began lamenting that her babies were all grown up. Edna had suggested they meet every other Friday to make cookies for their congregations. Truth be told, it was just an excuse for them to get together, although it was nice to share their baked goods during the fellowship hour following their biweekly worship service.

  Over the years, the four women had developed quite a reputation for baking the most delicious cookies around—favorites with young and old alike. They had even gained a nickname within their congregation—“The Amish Cookie Club.” The designation didn’t sit so well with Edna, but somehow it had stuck.

  Edna supposed it didn’t matter what people called them. The most important thing was that the four friends took the time to get together and support one another, something that was easier to do now that all of their children were grown and, in some cases, married.

  Now, with the cookies baking in Edna’s large commercial oven and the sweet scent of cinnamon wafting through the kitchen, the four women sat in the back room, occupying their time making baby blankets while they visited—the part of the day that was even sweeter than the cookies they baked.

  Four months had passed since her eldest son, John, had married Bethany. Four long, peaceful months filled with a new sense of enjoyment in her house. John and Bethany had moved into the small dawdihaus behind the main building, and while Edna missed having her son at her table every morning and evening, she found herself thoroughly enjoying the company of his young wife. Oh! For years, with three sons, she had longed for the companionship of a daughter of her own. Now she had the next best thing: Bethany.

  The only daughter of her best friend, Mary, Bethany was everything Edna could have hoped for in a wife for her son. She was kind and patient, soft-spoken and attentive. They often spent the days together, baking and cooking or sitting by the wood-burning stove in the back room, crocheting blankets. Indeed, this past winter had proven to be the most joyful one that Edna could remember in many years . . . for Bethany Esh had brought a new sense of life to the farm and much-needed female companionship to Edna’s long days.

  Unfortunately, all of that was about to change.

  MayFest was upon them—just days away. And that meant the unofficial start of the tourist season in Shipshewana. With the return of the tourists, Edna’s small business would, once again, begin. Serving home-cooked meals to the Englische was one way she helped make ends meet on the farm. But, of course, with spring approaching, it was that time of year when Wilma would try, yet again, to pawn off her twin daughters on Edna. Ever since Edna had started
her business, Wilma had urged her to hire the girls to help with the meal serving and prepping.

  “Rachel and Ella Mae are both eager to help you,” Wilma said as she sat in the rocking chair, knitting a lap blanket. She rocked back and forth, the runners creaking against the floorboards and a sweet, angelic look on her cherubic face, clearly oblivious to the expression of horror on Edna’s. “Why, just the other day, Ella Mae asked when they could start!”

  Edna caught Verna’s eyes and noticed that her friend was choking back a laugh. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at her, which only made Verna laugh harder.

  “What?” Wilma asked.

  “Nothing,” Edna said, averting her eyes.

  “You think she didn’t ask me that?”

  “Oh, I bet she did just that,” Verna replied, the hint of a chuckle in her tone. Everyone knew that Rachel and Ella Mae were not keen on working outside their home. And, truth be told, when they did work, the two young women constantly quarreled. As far as Edna was concerned, hiring them would be bad for business as well as for her nerves.

  Wilma scowled in Verna’s direction. “I’m telling you, she did!”

  “Oh, I’m sure.” From her tone, it was clear that Verna wasn’t convinced.

  “Bah!” Waving her hand at Verna, Wilma redirected her attention to Edna, her tone immediately softening. “And I know how busy you are. Surely you need help.”

  It was Mary, however, who quickly interceded. “But Bethany lives here now,” she reminded Wilma, peering at her friend over the rim of her round eyeglasses. “And she will be helping Edna.”

  “Oh, fiddle-faddle!” Wilma scoffed. She waved her hand dismissively at Mary. “It doesn’t take a doctor to see Bethany is pregnant, and with her being so fragile—”

  Mary frowned. “She’s not fragile!”

  Verna raised her eyebrows. “She’s pregnant?”

  “—she’ll be too tired to help out Edna.”

  Edna sighed. Neither John nor Bethany had wanted to announce it yet. But not much escaped Wilma’s eye, that was for sure and certain. “Clearly the cat’s out of the bag now.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” a bewildered Verna asked, looking from Mary to Edna. “I’m always the last to know anything anymore!”

  “We were going to tell you soon,” Mary said in an attempt to soothe Verna. “They only just told us.”

  “Hmph!”

  “Besides”—Wilma pursed her lips, adopting an air of innocent superiority—“I’d be surprised if John lets her work much longer anyway, seeing how protective he is of her.”

  Edna clucked her tongue and was about to refute Wilma’s claim, but Mary, who sat beside her, placed a hand on Edna’s knee. “He is just a little bit overprotective,” she whispered gently.

  Edna gasped. Coming from Mary, Bethany’s own mother—the queen of overprotection!—that was certainly rich!

  “I heard that!” Wilma lit up, pointing in Mary’s direction. “Even her own maem agrees!”

  Inwardly, Edna groaned. She couldn’t—simply couldn’t!—have Wilma’s daughters helping her with the Englische customers. Why! They’d bicker and argue with each other the entire time. Instead of helping her, they’d chase away her business. No one would want to enjoy a home-cooked meal at a fine Amish farm with two disagreeable women serving them, that was for sure and certain.

  “Besides, it’s not fair,” Wilma added, puffing out her chest and putting on a face. “All three of you have married off your kinner and now have grandbabies on the way, but not me!”

  Verna rolled her eyes. “You have plenty of grandbabies from your older dochders!”

  “And sohn, too!” Mary chimed in.

  “Bah!”

  But Edna couldn’t get past what Wilma had just said. Something didn’t make sense. Why on earth had she mentioned grandbabies? And then it dawned on her. “Wait a minute, Wilma.” Edna leaned forward in her chair and stared pointedly at her friend. “Who, exactly, are you intending your dochders to marry? Why, courting season will be in full swing come May—which is only next week!—so if they’re spending their free time helping me serving Englische tourists, how will they ever have time to go courting?”

  A silence fell over the room.

  After a brief hesitation, Wilma raised one eyebrow, arching it in a perfect inverted V. It gave her a sinister look that smacked of conspiracy. “Well, you do have two unmarried sohns, you know.”

  With wide eyes, Edna stared at Wilma. If Mary had had a feather in her hand and brushed it against Edna’s arm, she’d have surely fallen over! In her head, she had to repeat Wilma’s words—not just once, but twice!—to realize that she had, indeed, heard her friend correctly. And then, she noticed that neither Verna nor Mary said one word.

  Slowly, Edna turned her head and stared at Mary. “Did you know about this?”

  Mary bit her lower lip and let her gaze fall to the floor.

  Edna shifted her eyes to Verna. “You?”

  “I . . . uh . . . well . . .” she stammered, but then she, too, looked away.

  “Land’s sake!” Edna exclaimed at last. “I see exactly what’s been going on!” She dropped her crocheting onto her lap. “The three of you have been scheming behind my back!”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it scheming,” Mary mumbled.

  “Hush now!” Edna pressed her lips together. “Scheming’s exactly what it is. No amount of confectioners’ sugar will sweeten this bitter cookie!”

  Verna looked as if she might burst out laughing.

  “I’m simply shocked,” Edna said at last. Both Mary and Verna knew how difficult Wilma’s two daughters could be. Why on earth would either of them think, for even one minute, that Jeremiah or Jonas would be a good match for Rachel or Ella Mae? In fact, Edna couldn’t imagine anyone being a good match for Rachel or Ella Mae! “If you want your dochders here to learn a thing or two about cooking or how to suppress their contrary opinions and work as a team, well, that I could understand, but to try to marry them off to my boys?”

  Wilma blinked her eyes. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Wilma!” Edna gave her a sharp look. “It hasn’t slipped your notice that Rachel and Ella Mae do nothing but argue, has it?”

  “Well, I—”

  “And that’s not necessarily a personality trait that will interest a young man?”

  “I suppose that—”

  “And I can assure you that, despite your dochders’ pretty faces and occasional desire to actually work, neither of my sohns would find anything appealing about a young woman who does nothing more than compete with her own schwester!”

  Wilma pouted. “I think you’re being a bit harsh—”

  “Nee, I’m not!” Edna shook her head. “And both Verna and Mary are aware of it, which makes this little scheme even more surprising to me.”

  Wilma took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She bent her head, and an awkward silence filled the room.

  For a moment, Edna felt terrible. Perhaps she had been too hard on her friend, although, truth be told, Wilma had been pestering her for several years about this matter. Still, she should have held her tongue and found a kinder, gentler way to dismiss Wilma’s most recent attempt.

  Suddenly, the hint of a smile crossed Wilma’s lips and she lifted her gaze, her eyes catching Edna’s. “Still, you never know, Edna. God does work in mysterious ways.”

  “Oh help,” Edna muttered, tossing her hands in the air and sinking back in her chair.

  “And you did say you’d help them learn how to hold their tongues and work as part of a team—”

  Edna’s mouth fell open. Had she said that? She couldn’t remember exactly what she had said in the heat of the moment.

  From the corner of her eye, Edna saw Mary cover her mouth and Verna titter, both clearly amused. The truth of the matter was that, while she had tried to scale her business back to just three days a week—the previous season had been far too much!—some weeks were still booked for more days.
Without doubt, Edna most likely would need more help than her daughter-in-law could offer. So many days of cooking, baking, serving, and cleaning was an awful lot of work for just one woman.

  As for Bethany, she had not fared too well recently; morning sickness had stricken her for the past two weeks. And Edna knew John was overprotective of his wife. After all, she was a tiny little thing. Now that he was working on the farm, he often stopped inside to check on her, making certain she wasn’t pushing herself too hard.

  His attention was sweet, but Edna could see that John would not permit Bethany to work for long, especially if she was prone to feeling poorly in the morning.

  Wilma raised her eyebrows. “So when, exactly, should Rachel and Ella Mae start?”

  Edna exhaled and let her shoulders slump. Defeated. That’s what she was. Utterly and completely defeated. “Next Wednesday,” she sighed.

  Wilma cheered while the other two women laughed. Edna, however, felt only the heavy burden of defeat. Suddenly she wasn’t looking forward to the following week after all.

  RACHEL

  CHAPTER 2

  With her mouth hanging open, Rachel stared at her mother in disbelief. Had she just heard her correctly? Surely, she must have misunderstood!

  “What did you just say?”

  Nervously, she glanced over at Ella Mae, who, as usual, said nothing but merely rolled her eyes as she kneaded the bread dough against the worn wooden slab on the kitchen island. She made a fist and punched the dough, expressing her aggravation physically.

  Meanwhile, their mother bustled around the kitchen in a lame attempt to appear busy. Oh yes, Rachel knew better. After twenty years, she could read her mother well. All too well. When she was up to something, she often busied herself and avoided making eye contact. Her words would jumble and she’d wring her hands. And, of course, when Rachel saw the look of hopefulness on her mother’s face when she glanced back at the girls, Rachel knew without a doubt that she hadn’t misunderstood her. All the telltale signs were staring her right in the face.