Chapter Ten

“I can’t help in the creamery. You won’t let me make the soaps. What can I do?” Grace leaned on the outside wall, hoping that was the last of her breakfast finding its way back. She would have cried harder if her sickened state would allow for it. Her only chance to make an income was to work for Elli in the Schwartz Creamery, and that was no longer an option. She thought her nauseous state had passed months ago, but just a whiff of milk curding had told her just how wrong she was.

“You are not the first who couldn’t handle the smells here, and I won’t be exposing you to lye,” Elli said more sharply. “Plus, not everyone likes working around goats. My Abram says they stink worse than cheese making.” Elli chuckled. “We will find something better for you, so don’t you go and feel disheartened.”

Elli’s comfort did little to help. The Schwartz family was being kind as it was to offer her steady work, and there was no place for her in the store with Hannah and Rachel already working there. Maybe it was for the best, she considered. Between the scents of burned milk, molding cheese, and Rachel Yoder’s harsh comments all morning, which were far more difficult to deal with than Nubian bucks in rutting season, she would be better off anywhere but here.

“I bake. Any need of that?”

“There is always need, Gracie. Someone can always use what we have.” She doubted that statement was entirely true. “I used to sell my homemade goods to the Country Kitchen before opening the creamery and store. Let’s start there.” Elli was such an optimist. The woman never settled for a no, always had an answer for everything, and never turned anyone away.

Before Grace could consider Elli’s idea of selling her baked goods, they were standing at the counter of the Country Kitchen speaking with Sadie Miller. “Ya daed and I are blut. A wee bit distant and we never see him at family get-togethers, but we are family the same. His dawdi and Matthew’s were bruders.” Grace hadn’t known that. She thought her only connection to this community was the stern aenti who kept mostly to herself. “I would love it if you brought homemade goods to sell for the bakery. You can work from here until you need to be closer to home, then I will supply you with what you need and you can work from there.”

It sounded perfect. Grace felt a tinge of hope for the first time since April, when Jared had laughed in her face.

She had never known women like the ones who lived here. They spoke their minds, were bold, and did what needed done despite the roadblocks. With any luck, the next few weeks might not only give her time to bring her boppli into the world, but she might learn a little of what she was lacking in the wait. Speaking one’s mind, especially a woman’s mind, was not something so easily overlooked. If her daed were here, she was certain his head would spin right off his shoulders.

“Do you do cookies or specialty breads? I could use baking skills most of all. What about muffins? They sell rather well here,” Sadie said. Unlike Elli’s creamery, the Country Kitchen sat on a busy roadway where customers, both Amish and Englisch, could easily come and go as they wished.

“Jah, I have many recipes my mutter passed to me. I can make tarts and fried pies as well.” The sparkle that filled Sadie Miller’s eyes told Grace she had the job.

…

Matthew Miller and Cullen were using every muscle God gave them, attempting to unload Matthew’s new sign for the Country Kitchen. How Cullen had managed to load the thing alone was beyond him, especially now that he was handling the bulk for a second time.

“Freeman, get over here,” Matthew barked over a strained grunt the moment Freeman’s buggy came to a rest in front of the store. As usual, Freeman took his time, but he did offer assistance. With six hands and some further grunting, the three managed to get the sign unloaded and placed into the already-dug holes next to the main road.

“Looks gut, Cullen. You have a gift, son,” Matthew said, stretching out the bend in his back after carrying all that weight such a distance.

“Daed says much the same of your parts for our buggies. He still can’t figure out how you matched pieces so perfectly without a pattern or something to go by.” Freeman Hilty was only two years younger than Cullen, a short-tempered fellow always set on his next big thing, always planning for his future, without putting God or anyone before it. Maybe that was why courting had been such a waste of time for the man. He was so pushy for a bride that the fellow had scared away every single woman in the valley.

Laughter broke their attention, and all eyes shifted toward the storefront. Cullen set his gaze on Elli and Grace waving goodbye to Sadie Miller smiling on the front step. Grace looked happy today, and she wasn’t trying her best to hide her rounded middle as he noticed she often did when attending gatherings. He took in the shape of her. Grace was a small woman, and the bulge of her circumstance looked like a scrawny kid hiding a kickball underneath her apron. For the first time, he wondered what kind of man would leave a woman in her condition, abandon his Gott-given child.

Grace laughed again, and this time something flickered in her face that bordered on silliness. Unaware she was being watched so closely, Grace was different, comfortable, herself.

He imagined her childhood was spent teasing her sisters and whispering shared secrets. Having no siblings of his own, he could only imagine how five girls growing up in one place spent their time. Watching her keep step with Elli across the gravel lot, though, she was not a girl anymore—that was certain. Grace was beautiful, fragile as metal heated to bend to his will, yet she could be strong, once cooled. He wondered if she had any idea how she confused him.

He shifted from one boot to the other, pondering what her story was. She didn’t like attention, and maybe that was his answer. Every tiny feature that shied when attention was given, every angry scowl he seemed to bring so easily out of her, glowed with an energy he wished he could bottle and keep for himself. He had long ago put away his boyish tendencies, but when she was near, he remembered them. What would Gott think of him now, daydreaming about a woman like Grace Miller?

Her head lowered so often, he thought maybe she simply had a fear of stumbling. But nothing about Grace Miller appeared clumsy; her graceful movements said just that. She had slipped, how far was obvious. But she faced that sin, confessed. If she had earned her forgiveness, then why did she act as if none had been given? This was a question he was curious to find answers to.

“Is that Tess Miller’s niece everyone’s been talking about?” Freeman interrupted Cullen’s thoughts, and when Freeman moved forward for a better look, he was interrupting Cullen’s view, too. “Kinda schee, don’t ya think?” Freeman was ogling, but hadn’t he just been doing the same thing?

Before Cullen could respond, Freeman was off and quickly reaching the women’s side. Matthew and Cullen passed a knowing smile of amusement at Freeman’s well-known eagerness and walked over to greet them as well.

“Here, let me help you.” Freeman took Grace by the arm and helped her into the buggy.

“Danke.” Grace dipped her head and gave him a smile for his attempt at being chivalrous. How did Freeman Hilty get a thank you so quickly? She wouldn’t even look at him now. He knew, because he waited.

“I am Freeman. Freeman Hilty.” Freeman swelled as if he were a balloon and the extra air would somehow make him larger in the newcomer’s eyes. Cullen passed a smile to Elli; they were both thinking the same thought, he concluded. Everyone in Walnut Ridge had fallen witness to Freeman’s charming attempts at one time or another. He should really start breathing and stop puffing his chest like that. If Freeman turned purple, neither he nor Elli, and he was pretty sure Matthew as well, would intervene.

“Grace Miller.” Her tender voice was just as tempting as her smile. The smile Cullen had hoped to bring out of her was finally there, in the open, and aimed…directly at Freeman Hilty.

“Well, Matthew, looks like Cullen has done a fine job with your sign,” Elli quickly added.

“Jah. He never disappoints,” Matthew chimed in.

If they were trying to distract Freeman from gawking, it wasn’t working.

“We should go. Grace here and I have cookie planning to do.” So Grace would be helping with this year’s cookie exchange. Cullen was glad. It was good everyone was taking to her so well. Well, not everyone.

“I will let you two be on your way now, Grace Miller. Maybe I will see you again soon?” The big cheesy grin, the gleam of hope in Freeman’s eyes… Cullen was certain the man had just set his sights on Grace Miller, and his stomach twisted with the realization of it.

The last thing Grace needed was Freeman Hilty pestering her.

When the buggy pulled out of the gravel parking area, Grace glanced back. It would have been better if she hadn’t, but Cullen couldn’t deny a sense of triumph when their eyes locked for even that quick second. “She going to be living here?” Freeman tore open Cullen’s feel-good moment.

Cullen couldn’t hold back his tongue any longer. “Grace doesn’t need you shooting her attention.” Grace didn’t need his attention, either. It was a good thing Matthew had wandered off while Cullen was daydreaming. The older man would have seen straight through Cullen’s contempt and picked up on his out-of-character need to protect a newcomer who was of no relation to him.

Freeman narrowed his dark eyes greedily. “She has no mann. Her daed dumped her off here and left her for Tessie to deal with. What concern is it of yours what she needs?” Freeman’s brow rose challengingly. He had a way about him that was set between pouting over not receiving his way and looking a lot of the time like he wanted to start a fight. Neither was acceptable of an Amish man. “I find her schee…” His words trailed off as he watched the buggy ride along the stretch of county road before disappearing over the next rise. “And the kind of maedel who would be grateful that a man would take an interest in her, considering her situation. You should mind your own business.” Freeman marked his territory before stomping off like a banty rooster fluffed before a fight.

“What was that all about?” Elisha Schwartz had appeared from behind, most likely picking up a few sweets for his family, but Cullen’s eyes were still set on Freeman walking away.

“Freeman being Freeman,” Cullen scoffed. There was no way Cullen could allow Freeman to take advantage of Grace because of her circumstances. Marriages of convenience happened from time to time, but not this time. In Freeman Hilty’s beady brown eyes, Grace was a sure thing. He was a man who wanted nothing but a fraa but didn’t have the wits about him to get one the proper way. “What are your plans tomorrow?” Scratching his chin, Cullen let an idea take root.

“Not much. My regular chores in the morning and I got to be moving calves to feeder lots by Friday. Why?” Elisha was Lucas’s little brother, Cullen’s oldest friend who now lived outside the community, but his family carpentry skills might just come in handy. Elisha moved a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

Cullen turned to him. “How good are you with porches and roofs?”