One

September

SHE WAS LATE.

Holding her canvas tote bag in one hand and a box of oatmeal-­raisin cookies in the other, Miriam Zehr exited her house, darted down her street, turned left on Main Street, and almost ran down old Mr. Sommers.

With a grunt, he stepped to the side, his garden hose spraying a good bit of water onto her skirts before settling back onto his daffodils.

She skidded to a stop. “I’m sorry, Eli.”

He merely raised one eyebrow. “Late again, Miriam?”

Jah.” As discreetly as possible, she shook her blue apron and dress a bit. A few drops flew from the fabric, glinting in the morning sun.

He shook his head in exasperation. “One day you’re going to injure someone with your haste.”

She winced. “I know. And I am sorry, Eli.”

Looking at the box in her hand, his voice turned wheedling. “Those cookies?”

“They’re oatmeal-­raisin.” When his eyes brightened, she set down her tote and carefully opened the box. “Care for one?”

After setting the hose down, he reached in and pulled out two plump cookies. “Girl who cooks as gut as you should be married by now.”

She’d heard the same refrain almost as often as she’d run late for work. “I’ve often thought the same thing,” she said as she picked up her tote again. “But for now, I must be on my way.”

“Have a care, now.” He shook one arthritic finger at her. “Not everyone’s as spry as me, you know.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promised before continuing on her way to work.

Once at the Sugarcreek Inn, she would put on a crisp white apron. Then, she’d divide her time between baking pies and serving the restaurant’s guests. The whole time, she’d do her best to smile brightly. Chat with customers and her coworkers. And pretend she didn’t yearn for a different life.

But first, she had to get to work on time.

“Going pretty fast today, Miriam,” Joshua Graber called out from the front porch of his family’s store. “How late are you?”

“Only five minutes. Hopefully.”

He laughed. “Good luck. Stop by soon, wouldja? Gretta would love to see you.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Now that the Inn was finally in view, she slowed her pace and began to stroll to the restaurant, trying to catch her breath.

As she got closer, she forced herself to look at the building with a critical eye. There were places where it needed some touching up. A fresh coat of paint. One of the windowsills needed to be replaced.

The landscaping around the front door was a little shaggy, a little overgrown. It needed a bit of sprucing up, a little bit of tender loving care.

Kind of like herself, she supposed. Now that she was twenty-­five, she was tired of biding her time, waiting in vain for something new to happen.

Perhaps it really was time to think about doing something different. Going somewhere new. For too long now she’d been everyone’s helper and assistant. She’d watched her best friends be courted, fall in love, and get married. Most were expecting their first babies. Some, like Josh and Gretta, already had two children.

Yes, it seemed like everyone had moved forward in their lives except for her.

The sad thing was that there was no need to stay in Sugarcreek any longer. She had plenty of money saved and even her parents’ blessing to go find her happiness.

So why hadn’t she done anything yet? Was she afraid . . . or still holding out hope that a certain man would finally notice her and see that she was the perfect girl for him?

That she’d actually been the perfect one for years now?

Pushing aside that disturbing thought, she slipped inside the Sugarcreek Inn and prepared to offer her excuses to Jana Kent, the proprietor.

Her boss was standing by a pair of bookshelves, unboxing more of the knickknacks she’d recently started selling in an attempt to drum up a bit more business and profit for the inn.

Jana paused when she walked by. “Cutting it close today, Miriam.”

Glancing up at the clock over the door, Miriam winced. It was ten after nine. Jana had long since given up on Miriam getting to work early or even on time. Now she merely hoped Miriam wouldn’t be too late. “I know. Sorry.”

“What’s today’s excuse?” Humor lit Jana’s eyes, telling Miriam that while she might feel exasperated, she wasn’t mad.

Usually, Miriam came up with an amusing story or fib. Over the years, earthquakes had erupted, washing machines had overflowed, ravenous dogs had invaded her yard.

Today, however, her mind drew a complete blank. “Time simply got away from me this morning.”

Jana looked almost disappointed. “That’s it?”

Miriam shrugged weakly. “I’ll come up with a better excuse tomorrow, I’m sure of it.”

“Miriam Zehr. You are one of my best employees and one of my hardest workers. You always offer to help other ­people, and you never mind staying late. Why is it so hard for you to get here on time?”

There were all kinds of reasons. Miriam wasn’t a morning person. She seemed to always sleep in. She hated to get to work early so she waited until the last second to leave her house.

Unfortunately, though, she feared it was her somewhat irrational way of rebelling against the continual routine of her life. Sometimes her frenetic morning journey to work was the biggest excitement of her day.

Inching away, she mumbled, “I’ll go put on my apron and get to work.”

“Thank you, Miriam.”

Hurrying toward the back, Miriam scanned the tables. Quite a few were empty.

And then she noticed He was there. Junior Beiler. All six-­foot-­two inches of brawn. Blond hair and perfection.

Junior, the object of too many of her daydreams. The boy she’d had a crush on for as long as she could remember. The man she yearned would truly notice her.

Miriam kept walking, trying not to look his way. Trying not to stare. But she did. And as she did, she noticed that he was staring right back at her. More important, she was sure that something like interest glinted in his blue eyes.

Feeling her cheeks flush, she darted into the kitchen. But the moment the doors closed behind her, she let herself smile.

Maybe today, at long last, would be different.

THE MOMENT JUNIOR Beiler saw the kitchen doors swing shut, he grinned at Joe. “You were right, Miriam Zehr works here. I just saw her walk by.”

Joe’s expression turned smug. “I told you she did.”

“She just went into the kitchens.” Drumming his fingers on the table, he murmured, “I hope she comes out again soon.”

Joe chuckled. “And when she does? Are you actually going to talk to her about what’s been on your mind?”

“Absolutely.” Noticing that his buddy’s expression looked skeptical, he straightened his shoulders a bit. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Just about everything. You can’t simply go asking women about their best friends and expect to get information. It ain’t done, ya know.”

“Why not?” It made perfect sense to him.

“A woman isn’t going to give you information if she doesn’t know you.”

Junior scoffed. As usual, Joe was making a big deal over nothing. “I’ve known Miriam for years. We both have, Joe.”

Jah, we went to shool with her, that’s true. And we’re all in the same church district. But let me ask you this, when was the last time you actually talked to her?”

“I’m pretty sure I said hello to her at church last Sunday.”

Joe tilted his head slightly. “Did you? Or did you walk right by like you usually do?”

For the first time, Junior felt vaguely uncomfortable. He was one of eight kids, and he was sandwiched between two girls in his family. Because of that, he’d learned a thing or two about the female mind over the years. “I might have only thought about saying hello,” he said grudgingly.

Joe looked triumphant. “See?”

Okay, Joe probably had a point. But his inattentiveness didn’t mean he didn’t like Miriam. He just had never thought about her much.

Until he realized she’d recently become good friends with Mary Kate Hershberger. Beautiful Mary Kate Hershberger, who had moved to Sugarcreek in August and had quickly caught his unwavering attention.

Joe grabbed another hot biscuit from the basket on the table and began slathering it with peanut butter spread. “I still think you should get your sister Kaylene to introduce you. After all, Mary Kate is Kaylene’s teacher.”

Nee. Kaylene is having trouble in school.” Lowering his voice, he said, “Actually, I’m not certain Kaylene is all that fond of her new teacher.”

“Don’t see why that matters.”

“It does.” His youngest sister was eight years old and the apple of his eye. There was no way he was going to use little Kaylene in order to get a date.

“Why?”

Luckily, the kitchen doors swung open again, and out came Miriam. She now had on a white apron over her dress, and was holding a coffeepot in her right hand. Seizing his chance, he turned his coffee cup right side up, waited until she was looking his way, and motioned her over.

Joe raised his brows. “Impressive,” he muttered.

When she got to their table, her cheeks were flushed. “Kaffi?”

Jah. For both of us.”

After she’d filled both their cups, Joe gave him a little kick.

Thinking quickly, Junior asked, “So, Miriam, how have you been?”

She looked a bit startled by the question. “Me? I’ve been gut. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. It’s just that, well . . . I mean, I haven’t seen you around lately.”

She looked at him curiously. “Where have you been ­looking?”

“Nowhere. I mean, I guess I haven’t seen you anywhere but at gmay, at church. And here,” he added, feeling like a fool.

Joe groaned as he took another bite of biscuit.

“Why were you looking? Did you need something?” Miriam asked.

His tongue was starting to feel like it was too big for his mouth. “Actually, ah . . . yes!” Seizing the opportunity, he added, “I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you about something.”

She set the coffeepot right on the table. “You have?”

“Yes. When do you get off work? Can I stop by?”

“You want to come by my house? Tonight?” Her cheeks pinkened.

“I do. May I come over?”

“You may . . . if you’d like. I’ll be off work at four.”

Gut. I’ll stop over around six.”

“Do you need my address?”

“No, I know where you live. I’ll see you then.”

Miriam picked up the coffeepot, smiled shyly, then walked on.

When they were alone again, Junior picked up his coffee cup and took a fortifying sip. “See, Joe? That wasn’t so hard.”

“It wasn’t so gut.”

“Really?”

Joe leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “You, Junior, are an idiot.”

“What are you talking about? I’m going to go over to Miriam’s house tonight and talk to her about Mary Kate. It’s a gut plan. Wunderbaar.”

After making sure Miriam wasn’t nearby to overhear, Joe hissed, “Miriam doesna think you’re coming over to ask about Mary Kate. She thinks you’re going courting. How do you think she’s going to feel when she discovers that you only want her help to get Mary Kate’s attention?”

For the first time, Junior was starting to realize that he should have thought things through a bit more. “Oh. Well, I didn’t think of that. I guess . . . the way I asked . . . It’s not going to go well, is it?”

“Nope. You’ve truly made a mess of it. This is not good, Junior.”

Warily, Junior glanced in the direction Joe was looking. Spied Miriam.

Noticed that she was standing near the hostess station. Her light blue eyes were bright with happiness. She was smiling softly.

Meeting her gaze, he felt his neck flush.

He had a sudden feeling that Joe was right. And that was not good.

Definitely not good at all.