Read the book: «The Amish Suitor»

Chapter One

Harmony Creek Hollow, New York

The bottle of spaghetti sauce at the top of the pyramid swayed.

The three bottles below it rocked.

The whole stack quivered.

Eli Troyer leaped forward and hooked an arm around his nephew. He yanked the six-year-old away from the grocery store endcap. Kyle let out a shriek. Whether it was shock or a forewarning, everyone within sight in the small grocery store froze.

But not the bottles. The stack began to crumble.

Just as the wall had.

Irrational terror swelled through Eli, clamping talons around his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. Sounds erupted in his mind. The memory of an earsplitting crack from a wall that couldn’t stand any longer. A man’s horrified shout, a woman’s scream, crashing stone, pain...silence.

Always the silence.

Knowing he had to protect the little boy, Eli put out a hand in a futile effort to stabilize the bottles, to keep the display from crumbling. Too late. Just like before. In a slow-motion avalanche, the tower collapsed. He bent over Kyle, keeping himself between the little boy and disaster. Time escalated again when the first jar hit the concrete floor and shattered. The rest followed. Some bounced and rolled, but most exploded in a spray of marinara sauce. The sharp sounds resonated through his hearing aids as if he stood in a giant hailstorm.

Shouts, loud enough so he could hear them, though he couldn’t pick out words, rang through the store. His fear faded into knowing he must deal with what had happened in Salem’s only grocery store. He fought the yearning to flee as a different panic burst out in a cold sweat. After four years of staying out of the limelight, eyes were focused on him. It was the moment he dreaded, the moment he’d hoped wouldn’t come.

Someone was going to talk to him. Ask him questions. Expect him to understand what they’d said and then answer.

What once would have been a snap now was torture. Since the retaining wall had fallen on him and his brother and sister-in-law, he’d asked God at least once a day why Kyle’s parents had been killed and he hadn’t. He’d survived, but most of his hearing had been lost, leaving him encased in silence.

Not just his hearing had changed that day. His whole life had. If the wall hadn’t capsized, he’d be married to Betty Ann Miller. He hadn’t been sure if her averted glances had been pity or if she was ashamed because she found herself walking out with a damaged man. Either way, he never walked out with her again, and she’d married someone else.

He avoided talking to people. Most when they saw his hearing aids raised their voices and spoke slowly as if that would have helped more. Before he’d brought Kyle north from their home district in Delaware, he’d known when to dodge chatty neighbors. The storekeepers near Dover had learned it was easier to let him point to what he needed and not engage him in conversation.

Ach, how he missed the simple pleasure of a chat. Now he mostly spoke to Kyle, who helped him with even the simplest interactions.

“Are you okay?” he asked his nephew.

The little boy, who looked like Eli’s late brother with his bright red hair and freckles, nodded.

“What happened?”

Kyle shrugged and held up a box of brown sugar before going to stand by where the sugar was on a shelf. It was at least three feet from the endcap, farther than the little boy could reach. The motions were Kyle’s way of telling him that he hadn’t touched the bottles.

His mud-brown eyes widened, and he pointed past Eli.

Expecting to see an angry store manager, Eli squared his shoulders and prepared to strain what little hearing he had left to pick up the manager’s words. He turned.

And stared.

On the other side of the broken bottles and splattered sauce stood two women and two half-filled shopping carts. An elderly Englisch woman cowered behind her cart and peered like a cartoon owl through glasses with bright green frames. The other woman stood in front of her.

Eli’s breath caught as he looked at the pretty Amish woman. He hadn’t attended a church service in Harmony Creek Hollow yet, because he and Kyle had just moved into the new settlement earlier in the week. But he guessed she was the sister of the settlement’s founder, Caleb Hartz, because beneath her heart-shaped kapp, she had similar pale blond hair and intense jade green eyes. As well, she had her brother’s impressive height.

Her apron and the hem of her dark purple dress, as well as her black sneakers, had been showered with spaghetti sauce. A dab highlighted her left cheekbone. Pink was returning to her cheeks, replacing the gray of shock.

Kyle grasped his hand tightly. They stood side by side when a harried Englischer wearing a bright red bib apron as the cashiers did rushed to him. The man, whom Eli surmised was the store manager because he wore a white shirt and tie, pushed past the crowd of shoppers toward the elderly Englisch woman.

“Okay...boy?” he asked, stopping to look at Eli.

Before Eli could answer, the elderly woman waved her hands, gesturing toward him and Kyle. He struggled to follow the conversation as Kyle’s grip grew more constricting.

Guessing the old woman was accusing Kyle of causing the sauce bottles to fall, Eli said, “See here—”

The tall Amish woman—Eli thought Caleb had said his sister’s name was Miriam—turned to help the older woman stand straighter. The Englisch woman was getting more upset, and Miriam bent to speak with her.

He opened his mouth, but Kyle tugged on his sleeve. When he looked at the little boy, his nephew shook his head. Did Kyle want him to say nothing?

Straining his ears, he tried to hear what was going on and why Miriam Hartz was getting involved.

* * *

“The boy didn’t do anything.” Miriam saw the shock on the faces of the three friends she’d come with to the Salem Market, but she wasn’t going to watch in silence while a kind was falsely accused.

She guessed the little boy was Kyle Troyer, because she’d met the other kinder who lived along Harmony Creek. After the little boy and his onkel had arrived from Delaware, Caleb had gone to their house at the far end of the hollow, but she hadn’t joined him. She’d sent a chicken-and-noodles casserole as well as vegetable soup and a few jars of the grape jelly she’d brought from Lancaster County. Caleb had said Eli wasn’t talkative, but seemed determined to make a home for himself and his nephew.

She realized her brother had left out a few details. Details like how tall Eli was. She wasn’t accustomed to looking up to meet anyone’s eyes other than Caleb’s, but when the newcomer’s gaze caught hers, the startlingly blue eyes beneath his dark brown hair that was in need of a trim were a half foot above hers. Next to his left eye, a small crescent scar matched another on his chin. Neither detracted from his gut looks.

“You’re wrong!” The angry woman’s piercing voice broke Miriam’s mesmerism with the stranger. She pointed a gnarled finger toward the scared little boy. “He’s the one who did it!”

“Are you certain, Mrs. Hayes?” asked the dark-haired man who stood beside the woman. A name tag pinned on the red apron’s bib showed he was the manager and his name was Russ. “You may not have seen clearly. You’re wearing your reading glasses.”

“I know what I saw!” Mrs. Hayes ripped off her glasses and let them drop on a chain hanging around her neck and set another, more sedate, pair on her nose.

The manager hesitated, and Miriam thought he was going to listen to the old woman.

Every instinct told her to remain silent, but she couldn’t. She wondered why Eli Troyer wasn’t defending his nephew. The kind reminded her of Ralph Fisher, the little boy whom she’d thought would become her son. The two boys were close in age. Seeing the kind sent a wave of regret through her. She’d lost everything the day Ralph almost drowned. His daed, Yost, had put an end to their marriage plans, telling her the near tragedy was her fault.

She hadn’t thought so because the little boy hadn’t been in her care when he got into trouble. True, he’d been on his way to her house where she was going to watch him that afternoon, but she hadn’t expected him to arrive until much later. Shouts for help from his friends had reached her, and she’d pulled the little boy from the pond and got him breathing by the time the ambulance arrived. The little boy had survived and was fine, though he’d had a lesson about showing off she hoped he wouldn’t forget.

She hadn’t expected praise for doing what anyone would have done. Nor had she expected Yost’s anger and the repercussions and recriminations that followed. However, as time went on and others seemed to believe her ex-fiancé, she’d started doubting herself. No one else could blame her more than she did herself. She’d been a teacher for more than eight years and knew what trouble a six-year-old boy could find. Though she’d glanced out the window to watch for Ralph, she hadn’t gone to meet him. Her prayers that God would show her if the mistake was really hers hadn’t been answered, so she’d stayed away from kinder. In case Yost was right.

Her arms ached to hold the frightened little boy next to Eli and offer him comfort. But she couldn’t let herself be responsible for another kind. Next time it might not be an almost-tragedy.

Still, she couldn’t stand there and let a young boy be accused wrongly.

Those thoughts fled through her mind in a second. Stepping forward, she said with a gentle smile, “Ma’am, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

The manager glanced at her with relief. He was ready for someone else to try to reason with Mrs. Hayes.

The old woman wasn’t in a reasonable mood. “That boy bumped me a few minutes ago and almost knocked me off my feet. I’m sure he did the same to the sauce.”

“Did you see him do that?” asked a voice from the crowd of onlookers.

Mrs. Hayes glowered. “I didn’t have to. He was running wild. That man—” She aimed her frown at Eli. “I don’t know how you people raise your kids, but they need to learn manners.”

“I didn’t mean to bump her,” the little boy said. “She stopped right in front of me. It was an accident.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered if I’d fallen and broken a hip, would it, boy?”

“Let’s be thankful that didn’t happen,” Miriam said. “Why don’t you let him help you load your groceries into your car? That way, he’ll have another chance to say he’s sorry.”

The kind glanced at his onkel and made motions with his hands.

Looking from him to her, Eli nodded.

“I can help you,” the little boy said, sticking out his narrow chest.

The elderly woman seemed to have second thoughts as if she’d just realized how young the kind was. “No, that’s not necessary.” She frowned at Eli again. “You need to keep a closer watch on your child, and both of you need to learn how to behave in a store.” With a muttered comment Miriam didn’t catch, she walked away, pushing her cart.

The manager stepped forward, careful to skirt the broken glass. He motioned for a couple of his teen employees to start cleaning up the mess. He apologized to her and to Eli, ending with, “Mrs. Hayes means well.”

“I understand,” Miriam replied.

Eli said, “Danki.”

His voice was a rich tenor as smooth as warm molasses. She wished he’d say more, but he didn’t.

When Russ offered to pay to have her clothing cleaned, Miriam assured him it wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the stains out, but she didn’t want to hand her clothes over to a stranger. The manager insisted on giving her a discount on her groceries, and she agreed after realizing she’d become the center of attention in the cramped store.

“You, too, sir,” he said to Eli.

Again, Eli didn’t reply until his nephew tugged on his arm. “Danki.”

He took his nephew by the shoulders and steered him to a cart farther back in the aisle. When he glanced at her again, their gazes locked. Did he want to say something to her?

For the third time, he said, “Danki.”

The single word’s warmth and the sincerity in his voice swirled through her like a spring breeze after a difficult winter.

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

After he gave her a slight nod, he and his nephew walked away.

And Miriam let the air in her lungs sift out. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath, and she wasn’t sure why she’d been.

“Are you okay, Miriam?” asked a soft voice from behind her.

As Eli and his nephew went around the end of the aisle and out of view, Miriam turned to her friend Annie Wagler. Annie, her twin sister, Leanna, and Sarah Kuhns had come with Miriam in the Englisch van they’d hired to bring them the three miles into Salem for grocery shopping. The other women were, like Miriam, in their midtwenties and unmarried. Each had come to the Harmony Creek settlement to join members of their families in making a new home. The twins lived with grandparents and their brother and his family while Sarah kept house for two brothers.

“I am. Danki for asking. I never expected so much excitement.” She was babbling. She needed to stop, but her mouth kept moving. “Be careful. Glass is scattered everywhere.”

“Bend down.” Annie plucked a shard from the top of Miriam’s kapp.

Annie was the complete opposite of Miriam. A tiny brunette doll instead of a female Goliath towering over everyone else as Miriam did. Annie possessed a sparkling effervescence that brightened every life she touched...which Miriam couldn’t. Annie was honestly cheerful while Miriam had to struggle for every smile, though it’d been easier this morning while she and the other women rode in a white van driven by Hank Puente, who wasn’t much taller than the Wagler twins.

While Annie handed the glass to a store employee, Miriam shook her apron and dress with care. She was shocked when several more pieces of glass dropped to the floor. When she washed her clothes and herself, she was going to have to take care not to get cut.

Sarah stepped forward. She was a couple inches taller than the twins, but had hair as red as Eli’s nephew. She wore gold-rimmed glasses, which she pushed up on her freckled nose as she helped Annie and Leanna do a quick check to make sure there was no glass among the groceries in Miriam’s cart. Other shoppers edged around them, staring. Not at the plain women, but at the mess. More than one Englisch woman asked if Miriam had gotten hurt.

Miriam was amazed how the incident had opened the door wider for them with their Englisch neighbors, who had watched the Amish newcomers with polite but distancing curiosity. When she mentioned that to her friends, Annie giggled.

“What’s the saying? An ill wind blows no gut? I’d say it’s the opposite today. Gut things are happening.”

Annie saw the positive side of every situation, one of the reasons Miriam was glad they’d become friends. Annie’s optimism helped counteract her own regrets at how her betrothal had ended.

As she moved her cart aside so the store employees could clean the floor, she saw Eli and his nephew checking out. She watched the little boy signal his onkel each time the cashier spoke to them. Comprehension blossomed when she remembered Caleb saying Eli wore two hearing aids. They must not be enough to compensate for Eli’s hearing loss because he needed help from his nephew.

“Someone’s curious about our newcomer,” Leanna said.

“I’m more curious how long the checkout lines are,” she replied.

With another giggle, Annie said, “She’s not denying it.”

Miriam shook her head and looked at Sarah, who was more serious than she was. They shrugged before separating to finish their shopping.

Ten minutes later Miriam was watching her purchases flow along the belt at the checkout. Coming into the small village to do errands had become more fun than she’d expected. Other than the spaghetti sauce disaster, but that would be amusing when she told her brother about it. She was glad she’d accepted the invitation to share a ride with the Wagler twins and Sarah Kuhns.

Hearing laughter, she grinned at Annie. The tiny woman was in a silly mood today. They were enjoying a respite from the hard work of making homes out of the rough buildings on the farms where they lived.

It hadn’t taken long to get their groceries. The store had only three rows of shelves and was much smaller than the big-box store where Miriam used to shop at in Lancaster County. She hadn’t gone with women friends then, but with Ralph.

Her happiness faded again at the thought of the little boy she’d believed was going to be her son when she married his daed.

“Ach, Miriam, where did you find those oyster crackers?” asked Annie.

“I think,” she replied, “the crackers are in the middle aisle.”

Telling her twin to stay with their cart, Annie sprinted away as if she were as young as the boy with Eli. Two men at the other register followed her with their eyes. Nobody could be unaware of the interest Annie Wagler drew from men, except Annie herself.

“That’s forty-nine dollars and twenty-seven cents,” the cashier said. In a singsongy tone that suggested she repeated the words many times each day, she asked, “Do you have one of our frequent shopper cards? You get a point for every dollar you spend. When you fill the card, you get twenty-five bucks off your next visit. If...” The woman paused. “Do you people use these sorts of cards?”

Miriam smiled at the woman whose hair was the same rich purple as Miriam’s dress. After five months, Englischers around Salem still worried about offending the plain folks who’d moved into their midst.

“Ja... I mean, yes,” Miriam said, wanting to put the other woman at ease. “We’re known for being frugal.”

“Squeezing a penny until it calls uncle, huh?” The cashier laughed as she pulled out a card and handed it to Miriam. “Bring this with you every time you shop.”

“Thank you.” She put the card in her wallet and pulled out cash to pay for her groceries. “Do you take checks here?”

“As long as they are local and have a phone number on them.”

With another smile, Miriam accepted her change and helped the cashier bag her groceries. She put the grocery bags in her cart and walked toward the automatic door. As it swung open, she walked out. She watched a buggy leave the parking lot. It wasn’t a gray buggy like the ones she was accustomed to, nor was it the shape of the black buggy Sarah’s brothers had brought from northern Indiana. Though the departing buggy was also black, it was wider. It had to belong to the Troyers, because when she’d visited a cousin in Delaware, she’d seen similar Amish buggies.

Once their Ordnung was decided, everyone in the new settlement would drive identical buggies. Discussion had begun on the rules for their church district, but nothing had been voted on yet.

Hearing the store’s door opening behind her, Miriam hurried toward the white van. Hank slid aside the door as she reached it. He reminded her of a squirrel with his quick motions and gray hair and beard. He wore a backward gold baseball cap as well as a purple and gold jacket, though the June day was warm. He’d explained the coat was to support the local high school team.

“Find everything you wanted?” he asked.

“And more.”

“Ain’t that always the way?” He looked past her.

Turning, she saw her friends approaching with their carts. Once their groceries were loaded with Hank’s help, Sarah volunteered to return the carts to the store.

Miriam climbed in and sat on the rearmost seat. Leanna sat beside her, leaving the middle bench for her twin and Sarah.

After the van pulled out onto Main Street, they drove past several businesses, including a hardware store separated from the building next door by a narrow alley, a drugstore and several beauty salons and barbershops. Two diners faced off from opposite sides of the wide street. An empty area where a building had burned down five decades before was where a farmers and crafters market was held every Saturday. Miriam looked forward to being able to bring fresh vegetables to sell later in the summer.

They waited for the village’s sole red light to change before turning left along East Broadway. Ahead of them was the old county courthouse, and the redbrick central school sat kitty-corner from it.

“Danki for asking me today,” Miriam said with a smile. “I had a wunderbaar time and got some errands done, as well.”

“We watched you having a gut time.” Annie grinned. “Eli Troyer was intrigued with you.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Am I being silly?”

The other women shook their heads and laughed.

Deciding not to get caught in a game of matchmaking when she had no intention of making the mistake again of believing a man loved her enough to accept everything about her, Miriam said, “We should do things together more often.”

“I agree.” Leanna sighed. “I miss the youth group we belonged to several years ago at home.”

“Here is our home now,” Sarah said in her prim tone. “We’ve got to remember that.”

Miriam wished Sarah would stop acting as if the twins were kinder. Maybe being around kids all the time, as Sarah was in her job as a nanny, made her speak so. Sarah needed to lighten up. Just as, Miriam reminded herself, she needed to.

“What shall we do for our next outing?” Annie’s eyes twinkled. “We can be an older girls’ club and have fun as the youth groups do.”

Sarah nodded. “Ja, but I don’t like calling ourselves ‘the older girls’ club.’”

“How about if we become a ‘women’s club’?” Leanna asked.

Annie shook her head. “Those are for married women. We aren’t married. We’re... What’s the term? Not old maid. No. There’s another one.”

“Spinster.” Miriam smiled. “Why don’t we call ourselves the Harmony Creek Spinsters’ Club? After all, a spinster is someone who helps take care of a home for her siblings and parents, which is what we do.”

“I like it,” Sarah said.

Leanna grinned as Annie jumped in with, “I like it, too. We’ll be the Harmony Creek Spinsters’ Club, and we can take turns choosing fun things to do together.”

“Until we get married.” Leanna wore a dreamy look. She was a romantic and devoured romance novel after romance novel.

Miriam wanted to warn her not to be so eager to make a match, but how could she when she’d been glancing out the window every few seconds, looking for a glimpse of the Troyer buggy? I’m concerned if the little boy is all right.

She chided herself for telling herself lies. She needed to listen to the advice she would have liked to offer Leanna. A desperation to get married could lead to dreadful mistakes. It was better to trust God’s timing. Maybe if she’d done that, she wouldn’t have jumped to accept the proposal of a man who’d seemed more interested, in retrospect, in having her raise his kind than anything else.