Chapter 12
Joseph worked alone the next afternoon while Rachel went to her physical therapy appointment. “I’m getting better on crutches, ya?” she had asked before hurrying out the door. The greenhouse felt empty without her. He was glad when he had to go outside to empty the trash. He needed a break from the silence.
He thought he heard the greenhouse door open and close as he emptied the bins, but when he walked back inside no one was there. Was he hearing things? Did he miss Rachel that much?
Joseph sighed and began to clean up for the day. As he reached for a trowel, he noticed something catch the light on a metal table beside the door. He was sure that table had been empty before. He frowned, set the trowel back down, and walked to the table. He found a yellowed sheet of paper in a plastic sleeve.
Joseph glanced around, then looked back down at the paper. The plastic sheet felt cool and slick beneath his fingers. He squinted at the faded cursive until he realized it was an old letter. Joseph scanned the date at the top of the page. “Seventeen Thirty-Seven?” That was almost three hundred years ago.
Joseph tried to make out the text, but only a few lines were legible. My dearest Greta . . . it should never have taken this long to . . . I should have known that I would find what I wanted right here, at home.... She could never compete with you, my darling. When I look on you, I see all that is good and Godly. Hers is the distraction of that which is worldly—that which wilts as a . . . Nothing in this great world can compete.... You, my darling, and the joy of a plain life together. Joseph shifted the paper to move the glare from the plastic. With great love and admiration, yours always, Jacob Miller.
Joseph stared at the letter for another moment before he set it back on the table.
A car door slammed and Joseph jumped. When Rachel breezed in he felt embarrassed, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“What’s the matter?”
Joseph looked down at the letter and Rachel followed his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat. “What’s that doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you read it?”
“Ya.”
“It’s over three hundred years old. It shouldn’t be in here with all this moisture.”
“No, probably not.” Joseph liked the way Rachel blushed when she was embarrassed. It made him want to hug her. “I’m glad you left it here.”
“I didn’t—” Rachel pressed her hands to her face and groaned. “I know who left it here.”
“Who?”
Rachel looked embarrassed. “Mamm. She means well. She’s trying to . . . fix a mistake. Never mind. Just forget it.”
Joseph wanted to smile, but he didn’t want Rachel to know he caught on. Ada had tried to shoo him away. And if Ada felt bad for meddling, she would try to meddle again to fix it. That was Ada, for you. He couldn’t help but like her. Rachel was right; she meant well. And he had to admit he couldn’t get that line out of his head. I should have known that I would find what I wanted right here, at home.
“Tell me the story behind it.”
“All right,” Rachel said. “You know I love to talk about history. Daed’s family has kept that love letter all these years. We don’t know much more about Jacob Miller beyond what’s in this letter. We’ve found his name on a passenger list with a few other German Anabaptists, but that’s about it.”
“You know he fell in love with Greta in a pigpen.”
Rachel laughed. “Ya.” She ran a finger down the plastic sheet. Her face turned serious and her voice softened. “And we know that he must have been tempted by something else before he married her. Something fancy, ya?”
Joseph looked at her and their eyes met. “Something fancy, ya.” They stared at each other for a long, silent moment before Joseph dropped his gaze. “Do you think he ever wondered if he made the right choice?”
“No.” Rachel’s voice sounded steady and strong.
Joseph raised his eyes back to meet hers. He didn’t know what to say. But he knew he couldn’t fight his heart much longer.
* * *
The weekend before Christmas came at last and the Bird-in-Hand Farmers Market bustled with holiday preparations. The fragrance of nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon hung in the air as the bakery booth unloaded fresh-baked cookies and pies. Evergreen wreaths lined the counter across the aisle from Aenti Ruby’s booth and the scent of fresh pine mingled with Rachel’s rosemary. The butcher in the adjacent booth nodded to Rachel as he dusted a big red sign advertising Christmas turkeys. Vendors chatted and hummed as familiar Christmas carols played in the background.
This was the day that would decide Rachel’s future. Would her business be a success? And if it were, would she have the courage to ask Joseph to stay on as her business partner? If he did, could that partnership blossom into something more? So many questions. So much pressure!
Rachel arranged and rearranged the rosemary topiaries along a wooden counter at the front of her aenti Ruby’s booth. She turned a pot around so that the bow on the green and red plaid ribbon faced the aisle. Ruby shook her head. “You’ve been at it for twenty minutes. They’re going to either sell or not sell. Fiddling around with them won’t make a difference.”
“Aenti Ruby, I’m just so nervous! What if no one buys anything?”
Joseph leaned his hip against the counter and gave a reassuring smile. “You did your best. That’s all that matters. No matter what happens, you can feel good about that.”
“I wish it were that easy.” Rachel glanced at the clock. “The doors open in five minutes.”
Ruby put her hands on her hips. “Joseph’s right. Don’t judge yourself on how much you sell. Judge yourself on the effort you put in.” She scanned the row of handmade Amish dolls, quilted potholders, and crocheted Christmas ornaments on the shelves behind the counter. “My stuff doesn’t always sell. But I always manage in the end.” Ruby had a creative knack for making ends meet since her husband died.
“You’re good at everything, Aenti Ruby. Gardening is the one thing I’m good at, and I really want to be successful with it.... ” Rachel felt a catch in her throat and she glanced over at Joseph. There was another thing that she wanted to work out even more than her business.
Ruby straightened a box of crocheted snowflakes she had made to hang on the Englishers’ Christmas trees. “You two have had fun working together, ain’t so?”
Rachel nodded and glanced at Joseph again. He winked. “Ya,” they said in unison, and laughed.
“I’m glad you found each other.” She wiped a spot from the counter with her sleeve and nodded. “It’s gut, ya?”
Rachel and Joseph broke eye contact. Joseph fidgeted and Rachel cleared her throat. “Joseph and I aren’t together.”
Ruby’s green eyes flicked to Rachel. Her brows drew together. “I thought . . . ” She studied Rachel for a moment, then shook her head. “Sorry. You two just seem so natural together. Honest mistake, ya?”
Rachel didn’t answer. What could she say to that?
Cold air blew down the aisle and the sound of eager voices filled the long, rectangular room. “They’re here!” Rachel shouted. She was so relieved to change the subject that the words came out louder than she meant.
An elderly woman with a candy cane pin and matching candy cane earrings made a beeline for the rosemary. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Mmmm. So lovely. They call it the herb of remembrance, don’t they?”
“Ya.” Rachel grinned. Things were off to a good start.
The old woman straightened her back, leaned on her cane, and smiled a soft, wistful smile. Her face looked as pale and delicate as crumpled tissue paper. “It always brings back memories, doesn’t it?” She ran a finger over the tiny, needle-like leaves. “My mother’s garden, the meals I cooked my late husband, so many things . . . ” She sighed but kept smiling. “How nice it is to be young.” She motioned to Rachel and Joseph with a soft, shaky hand. “You two are still making your memories, not just reliving them.”
Rachel cut her eyes to Joseph. How she wished she and Joseph could make memories after today! He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows. Rachel wondered what he was thinking.
“I’ll take five,” the elderly woman said as she pulled twenty-dollar bills from her wallet. “One for each of my grandchildren. They’re grown now and you never know what to get them.” She picked up one of the pots and inhaled again. “This will be perfect.”
A group of young women stopped at the booth as Rachel zipped the twenties into her money pouch. They asked a few questions about the Amish, gushed over the rosemary topiaries, and bought one apiece. Joseph sank onto a stool, laced his fingers behind his head, and leaned back. “They sell themselves.”
Joseph was right. The rosemary flew off the shelves and it sold out before lunch.
“I can’t believe it!” Rachel said as she watched a man in a red sweater walk away with the last potted plant. “I never dreamed we’d do this well!”
Ruby smiled. “You did a lot better than I did today. You ought to make a go of it.”
“They loved your crocheted snowflakes,” Rachel said as she pointed to the half-empty box.
“Ya, but they loved your rosemary better. They stopped to look at your stuff, then bought a snowflake while they were here.” Ruby watched another shopper stroll by with one of Rachel’s potted plants in his hands. She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I tell you what, let’s make this a regular thing. I want you to sell your plants here year-round. It’s good business for both of us. You brought a lot of new people to my booth today.”
“Really, Aenti Ruby?”
“Really.”
Joseph jumped to Rachel and wrapped her in a big, enthusiastic hug. “You did it!”
Rachel leaned her face into his warm, solid chest and smiled. “No, we did it.” She felt as if she might melt from happiness. Everything was perfect. She had proven that she could be independent—with the help of the man she loved. Loved? Had she really thought those words?
Yes. Yes, she had. Love. That was the way she felt about Joseph. It wasn’t a crush or a passing fancy. This was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. He understood her. He loved what she loved. He made her laugh when no one else could. He made her realize that she could have a second chance at life. Rachel breathed in the smell of him and tightened her arms around his neck.
“I don’t want this to be good-bye,” she whispered. Rachel hoped he hadn’t heard.
Joseph pulled away and looked her in the eye. “Let me explain about Chrissy.”
He had heard her! Rachel cringed. “No. Not today. Today is a perfect day. Let it stay perfect.”
“You don’t understand.”
Rachel shook her head. “Please.”
Joseph looked frustrated but didn’t argue. “There’s nothing left for me to do in the greenhouse, now that we’ve sold all the topiaries. But I’ll come by on second Christmas for a visit, ya?”
“You will?” Rachel’s face lit up. She couldn’t hide her joy. Even if it would be the last time they would be together.