Wendy stood in front of her mirror and smoothed down the pleats at the waist of the emerald-green Amish dress she’d bought last week. Barton didn’t have any dress shops, and she’d looked for something suitable for Amish church at the thrift store but couldn’t find anything. She considered driving to Akron, or even Columbus, to shop at the department stores there. But when she passed by the fabric shop, she went inside and was stunned and pleased they had a dress in her size.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress. Even in court she wore pantsuits, and when she had worn a dress or skirt, it was never this plain. No patterns, buttons, or snaps, and the length was longer than the current style. She noticed something else too. It was so comfortable.
The dress had long sleeves for the cold weather, and she purchased a navy blue sweater to wear over it. She didn’t go so far as to buy a kapp, although she’d considered it. She didn’t want to appropriate the Amish culture, just respect it.
Wendy ran a brush through her hair. It was a little past her shoulders now. When she arrived in Marigold, she had the same style she’d worn for years—a short, sleek bob that stopped at her chin and took five minutes to fix in the morning. Now she could put her hair up in a clip, and she did just that, noticing a few threads of gray throughout the dark strands. She’d given up dyeing her hair, and there would be more gray coming. But she didn’t mind. She wore no makeup or jewelry, and she’d picked up a pair of dark stockings that went well with the rich green color. She slipped on her sweater, put on her plain black flats, and went into the living room.
Her mother’s friend Susan had picked Mom up to take her to church half an hour ago, and she would be back later this afternoon. Wendy let Monroe out for a few minutes. After he scampered around the backyard and did his business, she let him back inside, put on her coat, and headed for Eunice’s church in Marigold.
When she reached the Amish house, she experienced a small attack of nerves as she saw all the buggies parked on the lawn. She didn’t feel right pulling into the driveway, or even in front of the house. The weather was nice, and she didn’t mind the cold temperature. She parked the car farther down the road and made her way to the Beilers’ house, the family that was hosting today’s service.
Wendy searched for Eunice, who said she would be waiting for her. She’d expected to be more self-conscious, but while a few people gave her second looks, most everyone was heading into the barn, where the service would be held.
She glanced around again and saw Ella walking inside. The Yoders attended this church? Then again, she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d been doing more reading about the Amish and how they lived in communities called districts, which were headed by a bishop and consisted of a group of families, and those families were part of one church. According to Charity, Marigold wasn’t a large district, but it was growing and had been formed by a few families from Birch Creek, although there were other families, like Eunice’s, who had come from different parts of the state and country. The town of Marigold had been in existence for over a hundred years—only the district was fairly new.
Wendy followed Ella inside the spacious barn, and the first thing she noticed was how clean it was, considering it was a barn. The second thing were the benches lined up in two columns. The males were sitting on one side, females on the other. She’d read about that too, but it was interesting to see. It was also warm, and she noticed two large gas-powered heaters on either side of the barn.
Eunice came up to her, a big smile on her round face. “Good morning and welcome. I saved a seat for you right over here.” She looked at Wendy’s dress. “Did you get that at the shop?” When Wendy nodded, she added, “I think I made that one. It looks familiar.”
Wendy didn’t know how Eunice could tell, since there were several women wearing the exact same dress.
As they walked to a bench a few rows from the front, she saw Charity and Priscilla sitting together. Charity waved her over, a surprised look on her face.
“I didn’t know you were visiting today,” she said. “If I had, I would have saved you a seat.”
“We can scoot over a bit.” Priscilla started to slide on the bench. Emma, Priscilla and Micah’s almost one-year-old daughter, sat in her lap, leaning her back against her.
“Thank you, but I’m with Eunice,” she said, gesturing to her friend behind her, who was visiting with another woman.
“Okay.” Charity smiled. “If you visit again, maybe we can all sit together.”
“I’d like that.”
Wendy and Eunice made their way to their seats and passed by Ella and Junia, who were sitting three pews back with enough space between them for another person. Neither woman looked happy. Before Barnabas left her house a few days ago, he’d said he was a little hopeful, but he also admitted something else. “I fear their relationship might be permanently broken,” he’d said, a catch in his throat.
Wendy considered herself a realist and never gave her clients false hope if she could help it. “Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”
Barnabas had surprised her by ending their meeting with a prayer, something she’d never thought of or bothered to do before while working with her clients. Not that a voiced prayer would be welcome by many of them, but she could have taken the time to pray alone before and after her meetings and when she went to court. And it wasn’t because she lacked the time to do so. The thought had never entered her mind.
She and Eunice sat down on the bench, with Wendy taking the end. Eunice introduced her to her daughter and her daughter-in-law, who were sitting on the other side. As she told them hello, she caught sight of a man sitting on the end of the opposite bench. Barnabas.
Although all the men wore the same outfit—black pants, white shirt, black vest, and some had on their black overcoats—he looked especially fit in his church clothes. His rounded Amish haircut was neatly combed, his shirt crisp, his vest nicely fitted. The word handsome came to mind as she sat back. Very handsome.
The service started, and Eunice whispered to her throughout, preparing her for different parts and explaining a little bit about them. Wendy appreciated the information. She didn’t know German, and the monotone singing of the hymns threw her off a bit. But she found herself immersed in the service, and when it was over, a little more than three hours had flown by.
“Now we eat!” Eunice grinned.
Wendy followed her into the house. From her research, she knew that the meal was potluck with only cold dishes because cooking wasn’t allowed on Sunday, the day of rest. Everyone would share a meal and then go back home to relax for the remainder of the day. Eunice put her to work, and she was amazed at how welcoming the women were to her. She enjoyed the camaraderie.
Ella and Junia also helped, but other than telling the girls hello, she didn’t speak to them. She did a little observing, though, in preparation for their upcoming meeting. Wendy noticed that Ella helped in the kitchen much the same way she’d seen her work in the store, with quick diligence and a take-charge attitude, even with the older ladies. Junia focused on one task with another woman who looked to be around her age. They were immersed in conversation, speaking in Deitsch as they smiled and laughed.
But what stood out to her the most was how they avoided each other, staying at opposite sides of the kitchen. She didn’t see them interact one single time, and while the Beilers’ kitchen was large, with twelve women working, there wasn’t much room.
Eunice appeared at her side, holding a platter of sandwich meat and cheese slices. “It’s too cold outside, so the tables are set up in the basement. The stairs are off to the left of the kitchen.”
They went downstairs to a surprisingly large area with cinder block walls. Many of the men were there, sitting at the tables waiting for the women to serve the meal. Before she’d studied the Amish culture, Wendy would have been offended that the men weren’t pitching in to help, but she understood the division of duties between men and women. She didn’t get the sense that any of the women resented their tasks. Charity and Priscilla sure didn’t. And she noticed that the men helped with the children. Everything was running smoothly—the service, preparing lunch, and now serving the meal. Wendy appreciated the efficiency.
As she placed two jars of chow chow on the food table, she saw Barnabas. This time he was looking at her. Like Charity, he seemed surprised to see her. She smiled at him and was pleased when he smiled back. Then he turned to his friends and resumed their conversation.
Lunch was delicious, and she ate too much. She’d have to walk some extra steps this week, but it was worth it. She helped with the cleanup and thanked Eunice for inviting her. “I’ll see you next week for our lesson,” she said as she left the house and headed for her car. Only a few buggies were parked in the yard now, and she shoved her hands in her coat pockets as she made her way down the gravel driveway.
“Wendy.”
She turned at the sound of Barnabas’s voice. A tiny flutter appeared in her stomach as he walked toward her. She still couldn’t get over how good-looking he was in his church clothing.
He stopped a few feet in front of her but didn’t say anything. He looked to the left. The right. His gaze dropped to the ground.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
“Uh.” He finally looked at her. “Um . . .”
His awkwardness was endearing. “You can ask me anything, Barnabas. Is it about our appointment this week? Do you need to reschedule?”
He shook his head. “I was wondering . . . Do you need a ride home?”
His question was so surprising, she almost didn’t understand what he was asking. When she realized what he was offering, she couldn’t help but smile. How sweet. “I drove,” she said, pointing at her parked car. “But thank you. I appreciate the offer.”
“No problem.” He started backing away. “Um . . .”
“Yes?”
“Good to see you.” Then he turned and hurried away.
A thought occurred to her, and she caught up with him. “Barnabas?”
He turned, his cheeks a little red, his right eyebrow rising.
“I would like to ride in a buggy sometime.” It was true, but she wasn’t sure why she was telling him this. “It looks like fun.”
He nodded, a slight smile on his face. “Maybe someday you will.”
She watched him leave, the flutter intensifying. Barnabas Yoder had to be the nicest, most considerate man she’d ever met. He wasn’t anything like the men she was used to being around. Definitely the opposite of her ex.
Still smiling, she got in her car. Despite the challenge of helping Ella and Junia reconcile their differences, she was eagerly looking forward to their meeting . . . and seeing Barnabas again.
* * *
Although there was less than a week left before January first, and there was still Second Christmas to celebrate, Nelson decided to officially move to Marigold. On Monday he packed up his few belongings and piled them into his buggy. Mamm and Daed came outside to tell him goodbye.
“I didn’t know you were leaving so soon after Christmas,” his mother said, her eyes glassy. “I would have packed some things for you. Especially food.”
“I’ll be living next to the grocery store, remember? Plus there’s Charity’s cooking to enjoy.” He smiled and gave her a hug. “I’m not that far away.”
“I know. I know.” She blew her nose, her cheeks red from the cold air. The temperature had dropped to below freezing overnight and hadn’t risen much after sunrise. The heavy cloud cover had a hand in that. “But I don’t know why yer in such a hurry.”
Daed nodded. “Did something happen to make you want to leave sooner?”
Nelson couldn’t answer because he didn’t want to admit that, other than praying about buying the warehouse and then purchasing it, he’d been winging everything. Now he was restless and starting to stress out a little. He wasn’t a planner, never had been. But at some point, he had to learn how. Hopefully, living in the warehouse would give him some clarity. “I’ve just got a lot to do,” he said, which was the truth. “Ordering the equipment, putting up drywall, picking out paint, clearing trees for mei haus—”
“You’ll have plenty of help,” Daed assured. “If you’ll just wait until—”
“It’s time for me to geh,” he said. There was no reason for him to put off moving any longer. “That’s all I can say.”
“All right.”
Nelson ignored his father’s concern and turned to his mother. She gave him a watery smile. “We understand.” She sighed. “It’s not like we haven’t been through this before.” She pulled out a jar from her coat pocket. “Here’s a little housewarming gift.”
He looked at the handwritten label. Cherry preserves. His favorite. “Danki, Mamm.”
“Don’t eat it all at once,” Daed joked.
“Can’t guarantee that.” He climbed into the buggy and grabbed the reins. “See you soon.”
They waved as he pulled out of the driveway. His brothers were at work—the younger ones taking care of the animals, and Owen and Perry working the winter vegetables and the flowers in the large greenhouse. He’d given them quick goodbyes, but his leaving seemed so uneventful. Last year when Jesse moved away, Elam had been down in the dumps for a week. But with so many of his brothers moving out in the last few years, he must have gotten used to it. And it wasn’t like Nelson wouldn’t see his family soon, so there was no reason to make a big deal out of anything.
But as he drove the buggy farther away from home, excitement was building inside him, counteracting his confusion and nerves. He’d wanted a new start, and now he was getting it. Still, he would miss his family. Especially Mamm’s cooking.
He arrived in Marigold and went straight to the warehouse. His timing was good for it had just started to snow. He pulled around to the back and brought Crackerjack to a halt. Unable to help himself, he glanced at E&J’s Grocery. The parking lot was empty, which was unsurprising, considering most people were still visiting with family and friends over the past few days. He lifted out a box of miscellaneous items and walked to the back door. He entered the warehouse . . . and froze. Ella Yoder was sitting on the edge of his bed.
“What in the world?”
She jumped up and staggered back. “Nelson, you scared the life out of me!”
“I scared you?” He set the box on the floor with a thud and marched over to her. “What are you doing in mei shop?”
“I—” A look of uncertainty passed over her face. Then she lifted her chin. “You shouldn’t have left the front door unlocked.”
He hadn’t realized he had. Even so, it wouldn’t be anything he had to worry about. No one was going to enter the place without permission. Except for this woman. “So it’s my fault yer trespassing on mei property?”
Her bluster faded. “Nee. I’m sorry, Nelson. I needed to get away, just for a few minutes. I was out walking and . . .” She waved her hand. “Never mind. I’ll geh.”
She started to move past him and exit out the open back door. He should let her leave so he could get back to unloading his buggy and make an official start on his new adventure. “Wait.”
Ella turned to him, pain and confusion in her eyes.
Technically she did do him a favor by revealing his carelessness. Maybe he should be concerned about locking his place. Although crime was low in Marigold and Birch Creek, it would be smart to be more security minded. But he was also concerned about her distress. This was the third time he’d seen her this agitated.
He closed the door and guided her away from the cold draft, although it wasn’t much warmer in the cavernous, unheated warehouse.
“I thought you wanted me to leave,” she said. “What made you change yer mind?”
Now that was a loaded question. “I do want you to leave, but not while yer upset.”
“I’m not upset.” But she was looking away as she spoke, and she sighed again. “Okay, maybe a little. Or more than a little.”
“I understand the need to have some privacy. Growing up with eleven siblings, it was hard to come by.”
“I just have one. She’s enough.” She scowled.
He should have known this had something with to do with Junia. His brain was telling him to let her go. She could solve her problem on her own. But he couldn’t do that, and there was no point in telling himself he should. “Do you want to talk about it?”