The Amish Cookie Club (The Amish Cookie Club Book 1) Read online

  Giving in to Wilma’s argument, Verna sighed.

  “So? What do you think?” Edna asked.

  “Do you know the man, then?”

  Edna shook her head. “Nee, I don’t. Ezekiel Riehl’s his name, I believe.”

  Verna seemed to think for a moment as if searching her memory. “Ezekiel Riehl? I’m not so certain I know of him.”

  Mary bent her head and focused on her crocheting, a tiny V-shaped wrinkle forming between her eyes. “Mayhaps Simon will know him, ja?”

  “That’s right!” Edna exclaimed. “Simon might know this Ezekiel! Everyone comes to his hardware store, ja?”

  Even Verna appeared satisfied with that answer. “A gut idea, Mary. I’ll ask him tonight.”

  “You do that and then you can let me know?”

  Suddenly a dark cloud crossed Verna’s face. “I wonder if Myrna might think we are trying to play matchmaker, if you know what I mean.”

  “Play matchmaker?” Edna hadn’t considered that. She knew nothing about this man, and given that he hadn’t remarried yet—an unusual situation for a young widower—he was most likely still grieving and, as such, had no intentions of doing so anytime soon. “Oh, I should think she’d know well enough that’s not our intention. But to expose her to some domestic training, why! She’d surely benefit from that. Besides, acting as the caretaker of the home, she could organize the haus and those kinner to her heart’s content.”

  The darkness lifted from Verna’s expression and she gave Edna a sideways glance. “Mayhaps you’re right, Edna.” A hint of a smile curved the corners of her lips. “Perhaps Myrna will be the right person for this Ezekiel Riehl after all.”

  Chapter Five

  “Ezekiel Riehl?”

  Wide-eyed, Verna sat in her rocking chair. In the dim light from the kerosene lantern, she stared at her husband as he leaned forward in his faded blue recliner.

  Ever since she had spoken with Edna earlier that day, she’d wavered between excitement and worry. The idea of Myrna helping the Riehl family sat well with Verna. Not only would Myrna be doing something good for a grieving family, but the work would also help Myrna mature. The many responsibilities involved in tending children were much different from those of working in a store dealing with adults.

  But Verna also worried, because she knew nothing about this Ezekiel Riehl. Some Amish men could be downright stern, and a widower who was overwhelmed might take advantage of someone as giving as her daughter. As much as Myrna could benefit from someone putting her in her place, Verna didn’t want her subjected to an unfair man with unreasonable demands.

  That was why she decided to ask her husband his thoughts on the matter.

  She’d waited until long after supper to share the news with him, not having wanted to say anything earlier when Myrna, Samuel, and Timothy were around. Now that the three of them had retired for the night, she only just found the perfect moment to discuss the matter with Simon and to see if he knew anything about this man.

  From the way he’d repeated Ezekiel’s name, Verna could tell he was fond of the man.

  “You mean Zeke?” Simon grinned at her, which eased the concern she’d felt all afternoon. “Oh ja! He’s a right gut fellow. Why! He was in the store just last Saturday.” Simon paused and tugged thoughtfully on his beard. “I never once thought to ask him how he’s faring since his fraa passed last summer. Been so long, it didn’t cross my mind. Frankly, I forgot she’d been sick and all. And I haven’t seen him since her passing.”

  Verna waited a moment out of respect for the young woman who’d passed. Then, when she felt it was appropriate, she asked, “Do you know how she died?”

  “Ja, cancer.” Simon frowned. “Breast cancer, if I recall.”

  Verna shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Shame they couldn’t treat it.”

  Her husband paused and then held up his hand. “Now wait a minute. I seem to remember there was a bit of a hubbub about that.” He tapped the side of his head as if trying to think back. “Something about the woman refusing treatment.”

  Verna gasped. “Oh my!”

  “Not sure why,” Simon continued, “but to refuse treatment when she had those little ones . . . such a shame.”

  It didn’t happen very often, not in their area. But some Amish folks were naturalists and felt strongly that God would heal them. And if God didn’t, then it was just their time to leave this world and enter God’s kingdom.

  Verna didn’t subscribe to such thinking. “You don’t think that Ezekiel is one of those, do you?”

  Simon shrugged. “Doesn’t appear to be so conservative, but I don’t know him all that well. Not personally. However, what I do know about him is he’s a kind man with a righteous reputation, more than giving to his neighbors, and hardworking, too.”

  Verna held her breath. “Do you think Myrna might do well with him?”

  “Oh, ja! He’s got a nice big farm and always pays his bills in cash. Never once uses one of those credit cards.” Simon lowered his voice. “Not like some of the younger farmers.”

  Verna knew better than to inquire further. Like many middle-aged Amish men, Simon held to the principle that if there wasn’t enough cash to buy something, it wasn’t worth having. Once when the bishop and his family had come for supper, Simon had gone on a tirade about the younger men spending money they didn’t have. The bishop had listened to Simon thoughtfully and, not even one week later he’d preached about that very subject at worship.

  “But what about his personality?”

  Slowly, Simon’s smile dissipated. “Oh. I think I understand your question better now.” He stood up and began to pace the kitchen floor. In the glow from the kerosene lantern, his shadow loomed large on the back wall of the gathering room. “I can’t say I know much about him personally except that he’s a bit reserved in nature. I haven’t heard anything, either gut or otherwise.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder at Verna. “But that’s not unusual, considering he doesn’t live in our district, or the neighboring one, either.”

  Patiently, Verna waited for her husband to sort out his thoughts as he began pacing again.

  “She’ll think we’re trying to set her up, no doubt,” he mused. “That’s not it at all, of course. She’ll just have to accept that.”

  “Of course,” Verna repeated softly.

  “I mean, Zeke’s a right gut man from what I can tell, but that doesn’t mean he’d be interested in a young feisty nineteen-year-old.”

  “She’s twenty-one.”

  Simon grunted, and in the dim glow from the lantern, Verna thought she saw him flush, embarrassed about his error.

  The floorboards creaked under his heavy shoes as he began walking back and forth again. “Still, no one will hire her in town, not the Amish-owned stores anyway. Why, just yesterday I ran into the Englische man who runs the Farver Bookstore, and even he’s heard about Myrna’s reputation.” He gave a single laugh. “Not even the Englische will hire her now!”

  “Oh help,” Verna muttered under her breath.

  Abruptly, Simon stopped and turned around, facing Verna with a resolved look in his eyes. “I think it’s a gut idea, Verna. If Myrna tends to Riehl’s kinner, she’ll have a different type of responsibility than she’s used to. She’ll also learn the skills of working in the haus, which will be attractive to other young Amish men, especially if she keeps herself out of trouble. And she’ll meet new people in the Riehls’ church district, too.”

  “So she might do it then?”

  Simon nodded his head. “Ja, I believe so. Edna Esh may have solved all our problems with this!” He moved back over to his recliner and sank into it. “Now, the big question is . . . who’s going to tell her?”

  * * *

  “No!”

  It was Thursday evening, and Myrna stood at the foot of the staircase, her hands crossed over her chest. She wore a dark expression, one that screamed defiance and anger. Verna knew that look far too well.

  �
�Now, Myrna,” Verna said calmly.

  Only an hour earlier, she had hung up the phone with Edna. Oh, how delighted Verna had been to make that call! It had even been worth it to walk over to the Englische neighbors to ask about borrowing their phone, although she did have to sit afterward and hear about Joan’s grandchildren for thirty minutes. She never could understand why the Englische insisted on talking about their grandchildren to people who’d never met them. Verna had smiled and nodded as Joan showed her photo after photo on her smartphone. So many pictures!

  But Myrna knew nothing of the sacrifice Verna had made earlier. Instead, her daughter glared at her, a long, sour expression on her face.

  “You should at least meet the man,” Verna said in a pleading voice.

  Myrna shook her head so hard that her prayer kapp came askew. “I will not care for someone’s kinner. Even worse, you probably told him I’d clean for him as well. If I’m caring for anyone’s kinner and cleaning haus, it’s going to be my own, not some stranger’s!”

  Verna wanted to point out that there was no chance of Myrna ever having her own children or her own house if she continued criticizing everyone she met.

  “Besides, you told me I’d be a companion or mother’s helper!” Myrna’s eyes flashed. “What you’re describing is completely different. Why, I’d be in charge of everything. I don’t know anything about running someone else’s haus! And a boppli?” She shuddered. “I’ve barely ever held a boppli for more than ten minutes, and that’s only been at gatherings when someone needed a quick hand.”

  It was true—an unfortunate result of being born so close in age to her younger brothers. There were no lessons to be learned about tending to younger siblings. And the fact that they lived in a house on the outskirts of town—and near more Englischers than Amish—didn’t help matters. Most of Myrna’s exposure to children was brief, a few stolen moments at fellowship when a young mother needed an extra hand.

  But that didn’t mean Myrna couldn’t do it. Verna had the feeling that her daughter could do anything once given the chance. Well, she corrected herself, anything but working at a place where she has to deal with customers.

  Deciding to take a different approach, Verna attempted to appeal to Myrna’s compassionate side. “The man’s in a tough situation, Myrna,” she said. “He has no one to care for his little ones.”

  “Surely he has family.”

  “His fraa’s schwester was tending to them, but she’s recently married.”

  “So?”

  “She’s moving to another county next week.”

  “So?” Myrna repeated, clearly indifferent to Ezekiel’s plight.

  Verna tried to keep her impatience in check. “She’ll live too far away to care for them.” Taking a few steps toward her daughter, Verna held her hands out in a pleading gesture. “Have some compassion, Dochder. Think of the children missing their maem. How hard it must be on them. And the man. Why! He’s a farmer, you know. And it’s near impossible to run a farm or tend to chores with a boppli and small kinner underfoot.”

  Myrna rolled her eyes. “The community will help out. You know that.”

  “Myrna!” Verna couldn’t believe how stubborn her daughter was behaving. “Do you truly think a rotating caregiver is appropriate?” She paused, trying to regroup her thoughts. Seeing Myrna’s attitude, she realized that arguing with her wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “It’s not forever, Myrna. Mayhaps just until he finds someone else. He doesn’t have time now to find anyone but you. Please.”

  Something shifted on Myrna’s face. Her eyes narrowed, and she pressed her lips together in a fine, tight line. Verna held her breath, wondering what Myrna was thinking. From the looks of it, it was a deep thought indeed.

  “You’ve already committed me to the job, haven’t you?” Myrna said in a strangely calm voice.

  “I—”

  But Myrna interrupted her. “You committed me to working for this strange man.”

  “Well, not—”

  “Oh, Maem!” Exasperated, Myrna threw her hands into the air and pushed past her mother. “How could you do that?”

  “You need to work, Myrna. And it sounds like a fine opportunity. Even if it’s only for a few weeks until he finds a permanent caregiver.”

  But Myrna wasn’t so easily convinced.

  “Look, Myrna, it’s our duty to rally round our neighbors, and here is a man who could surely use your help.” Verna glanced at the clock. How would Myrna react when she told her that they were scheduled to drive over and meet Ezekiel and his children on Monday?

  There was a long moment’s pause, and then, to Verna’s surprise, Myrna’s shoulders drooped, and she sighed. “Fine.”

  “Excuse me?” Stunned, Verna blinked rapidly. Had she misheard her daughter?

  “I said fine!”

  Verna couldn’t help but feel a great wave of relief. She’d never expected Myrna to agree so easily. In fact, she had been prepared for a long, drawn-out battle. All day she had been practicing what she would say to her daughter and preparing herself for the backlash. But now, Verna heard herself laugh, relief washing over her like a wave of good tidings.

  “Oh Myrna! That’s wonderful!”

  Myrna held up her hand as if to stop her mother. “But only until he finds someone else . . . until he finds someone more permanent. Surely this Riehl fellow can find a young woman who will be better suited for the job than I am.” She lifted her chin in a subversive manner. “I can promise you I’m not about to be a mother to another woman’s children for the rest of my life.”

  “They don’t have a mother.”

  Myrna rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Besides, anything is better than being stuck in that storeroom at Daed’s shop. I told you it’s too cold, and he refuses to turn on the heat or provide better lighting. I’ve a headache from shivering and squinting all day. And my fingers are stiff from the chill!”

  Verna waved her hand at Myrna in a dismissive way. She didn’t understand why her daughter was always so melodramatic. “Oh, come now. I spoke to your daed about it and he told me that you’re making a big fuss over nothing. He said it’s not that bad!”

  “It is that bad, I can assure you!” Myrna stretched out her fingers, then made a fist. “Why, if I was an Englischer, I’d complain to the authorities about those working conditions.”

  Verna rolled her eyes. “Then I reckon it’s a right gut thing that you aren’t Englische.”

  “Hmph.” She started to walk up the staircase but paused in midflight. “I suppose I’m to meet this man before I start, ja?”

  “Let’s see if he can meet you Monday. We’ll ride over together.”

  “And when would I start?”

  “The following week. That’s when the aendi is moving away, I’m told.”

  Myrna nodded. “So only one week left freezing to death at Daed’s, then? Mayhaps you could see about trimming my hours back a bit.” She glanced over her shoulder at her mother. “Since Daed insists on letting me freeze to death, I’d hate to catch pneumonia before I start working for Ezeriah.”

  “Ezekiel,” Verna corrected.

  “What. Ever.” She tapped her fingers on the banister. “Can’t be getting his kinner sick. I reckon that wouldn’t win me any gold stars.” She smirked. “Or any promotions. Oh, wait! Pretend mothers don’t get promotions.”

  Verna pressed her lips together and gave Myrna a stern look. But Myrna merely continued making her way upstairs. When she heard the door to the bedroom shut, Verna exhaled and turned away from the staircase.

  She was surprised that Myrna had so readily agreed to take the job. But she was also concerned that Myrna’s flippant attitude might create problems for this Ezekiel Riehl. Surely, he didn’t need a homemaker with such inappropriate behavior. She could only pray that Myrna would have enough respect for the man that she’d keep her opinions to herself and just do what was expected of her without trying to take undue control of his home and family.

&nb
sp; * * *

  “She said what?”

  Sitting in her buggy, Verna laughed when she saw Edna’s expression. “She said she’d do it!”

  “Oh, glory day!” Edna clasped her hands together and lifted them toward the sky as if thanking God. “I just know this will be a wunderbarr learning experience for her.”

  It was Friday afternoon and, as soon as she’d finished her chores, Verna had hitched the horse to the buggy and driven over to the Esh farm, eager to share the news. “I thought we could ride over to your friend’s haus and see if she might be able to get us in touch with this Riehl fellow to confirm.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of the Schwartz household. Unlike the Eshes, the Schwartzes had a telephone on their property. Susan eagerly agreed to make the phone call and, while Edna and Verna sat outside on the porch, disappeared into the phone shanty to do just that.

  “Monday still works fine for Ezekiel,” Susan said as she rejoined them on the porch. “She should meet with him then.”

  It felt as if a weight had been lifted from Verna’s shoulders. Perhaps Edna had been correct after all, she thought. Perhaps this was part of God’s plan: a family in need of Myrna’s help when she, too, needed theirs.

  “I don’t know how I’ll get through the weekend,” Verna said as she sipped at the glass of lemonade that Susan had served them. “This is all so exciting.”

  “So exciting, indeed!” Edna laughed. “Oh, Myrna will do just wunderbarr. I know it.”

  Chapter Six

  Early on Monday morning, Myrna stood at the front door of the Riehls’ house, her mother at her side. She felt like a child, having her mother accompany her, but Verna had insisted. Myrna couldn’t help but wonder if her mother’s presence was due to genuine concern for her daughter or to keep Myrna from saying something that would be deemed inappropriate.

  Perhaps a mixture of both, she decided at last.

  Verna knocked on the door and, after a brief wait, glanced in Myrna’s direction. “I wonder if he remembered we were coming. Edna’s friend Susan told us she’d arranged everything.”