CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I crossed Church Street, aptly named for the big white church where Reverend Brook ministered, on one side of the square. An Amish family from another district was picnicking in the gazebo. The plain-dressed children ran around the large white gazebo, playing a vigorous game of tag. Other than the gazebo and a dotting of trees and shrubs, most of the square was open green space. That’s just how Margot Rawlings wanted it because if she had her way, every day of the week there would be an event or festival on the green space in the middle of the village. In the short time that I had been back in Harvest, she had all but accomplished that.
However, that day the square was quiet, other than the normal village and tourist traffic that was common on a nice spring day in any Amish town. I waited for a moment as two buggies drove by before I crossed Main Street to reach the candy shop. Charlotte was no longer outside passing out fudge. Even from the sidewalk, I could inhale the enticing smells of warm chocolate and sugar. They mingled with the scent of fresh baked dough from the pretzel shop.
I glanced at Esh Family Pretzels before entering the candy shop. Esther Esh, a young Amish woman of almost thirty, watched me from the window. She had a deep frown on her face. She ran the pretzel shop with her older brother Abel, who was also unmarried. It was well-known in the village that Esther did most of the work for their shop and family. She caught me looking and dropped the white gauzy curtains that covered the window, disappearing from sight.
Shaking my head, I went into Swissmen Sweets. The bell on the door rang to announce my entry.
There were three Englischers at the counter being helped by the three women in the shop: Bailey, her grandmother Clara, and her cousin Charlotte.
The front of the shop, which was the only portion I had ever seen, had pine floors and polished blond wood shelves that were lined with jars and baskets of the most mouthwatering candies I had ever seen. The glass of the jars sparkled as they were carefully polished each and every day. In the main part of the room there were four small café tables with paddle-back chairs where visitors could sit and enjoy their candies and visit with friends and neighbors. The centerpiece of the shop, though, was the long glass-domed counter that was filled with trays of fudge, truffles, and chocolates of every kind. This was the counter behind which the three women stood, working in perfect sync.
All three women were helpful and patient while the Englischers, who were clearly from outside the county, appeared to agonize over their candy choices.
“I just don’t know if my husband would like the vanilla fudge or the cherry vanilla fudge more,” one woman said.
Bailey smiled at her. “How much were you going to get?” Bailey was a tall Englisch woman with long dark hair and sparkling blue eyes that matched Clara’s. She was completely at home working in an Amish shop even though Charlotte and Clara were in pale blue plain dresses and sensible black sneakers and she wore jeans, a plaid button-down shirt, and feathered earrings.
“I was thinking half a pound.” The woman frowned as if she was unsure of even how much fudge to buy.
“How about this,” Bailey said. “Get a quarter of both. The fudge is delicious, but is best enjoyed in small doses.”
“All right,” the Englischer said. “That does sound like a plan.”
“I’ll throw in some of our white chocolate drops for free, just to be sure that he enjoys it,” Bailey said.
“Oh, would you? That would be so kind.”
Bailey smiled. “Charlotte will ring you up while I pack your items.”
The woman thanked her and went to the cash register, where Charlotte stood waiting.
Clara waved at me in her kind way and wiped her hands on a white muslin towel. “Millie, it is so gut to see you.” Sadness clouded her face. “I was so sorry to hear the news about Zeke Miller.”
I nodded. “Danki.”
“How is Edith?” she asked. Her face was a mask of concern.
I blinked as tears threatened the corners of my eyes. I hadn’t realized just how upset I was over the situation until Clara asked. I looked down for a moment, embarrassed by my tears. The Amish, both men and women, were taught to be strong; crying in public did not show strength.
Clara was looking away out the front window, allowing me time to collect myself. She understood my need to compose myself before I went on. I appreciated that.
I cleared my throat. “Edith is doing well, staying strong for the children.”
Clara nodded, accepting my answer as fact.
The last Englischer left the shop, and Bailey came out from behind the counter and gave me a hug. “Millie, it’s so good to see you. I’m sorry . . .” She trailed off.
“I appreciate it.” This time there were no tears. I had a much better handle on my emotions. “I thought I should stop by to tell you that we no longer need that wedding cake I ordered. I’m still happy pay for it.”
“We know,” Bailey said. “Aiden told us.”
I nodded, thinking not for the first time that I would have to be careful what I said in front of the ladies of Swissmen Sweets because of their close relationship with Deputy Aiden.
The Englisch customer walked out the door with her vanilla-flavored sweets.
“And you don’t need to pay us for anything,” Bailey added. “Charlotte and I never could come to an agreement about the flavor.”
“That’s true,” Charlotte called from behind the counter where she was working tying yellow ribbon around cellophane bags of freshly made lemon drops. “Bailey doesn’t know how to compromise.”
Bailey rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. It was clear to me that it was something the two of them had joked about many times before.
“But you might have ordered some ingredients to start the cake,” I argued, “even if the flavor wasn’t completely settled.”
“If we did, it does not matter,” Clara said. “We can always use the ingredients in something else.”
“That’s right,” Bailey agreed.
“Danki.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Bailey asked. “If you need me to talk to Aiden, I’m happy to do it.” Worry creased her forehead. “I have to leave for New York tomorrow morning. I’m doing some press and interviews for my television show, Bailey’s Amish Sweets, but I can ask to cancel or move it.”
I shook my head. “Nee, please don’t do that. Deputy Aiden has been very kind through the process. We must just wait and see.”
Clara cocked her head. “I haven’t known you to be a wait-and-see kind of woman, Millie.”
I laughed. “I suppose I’m not. All I would ask is that you pray for Edith and everyone else involved.” I caught myself before mentioning Darcy. The girl could also use prayer to deal with her broken heart, but I didn’t want to spread the word about her relationship with Zeke any farther.
“Of course,” Clara said.
I thanked them again. “Do you have any of that blueberry and lavender fudge?”
Bailey laughed. “I have never met anyone who loves blueberry as much as you do, Millie. Yes, we have plenty. Let me pack up some for you.” She went behind the counter.
As I waited for my fudge, the front door to Swissmen Sweets opened again, and Deputy Little strode inside. As soon as he was in the room, Charlotte became very interested in her task of packing lemon drops. She stared at her busy hands.
After greeting us all, Deputy Little walked up to her. “I’d like a pound of chocolate peanut butter fudge.”
She looked up. “You bought a pound of chocolate peanut butter fudge two days ago. Did you already eat it?”
Now, his face was red. “I—I gave it away at the station.”
“Oh,” she said. “That was nice of you.”
He smiled.
She shook her head as if shaking herself from a daydream. “I will get that for you.”
Beside me, I saw Clara’s face crease in worry. She was seeing what I was seeing, I was certain. Bailey held out a little white box to me. “Here’s your fudge.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing.” Bailey shook her head. “No, it’s a gift. Please.”
I took the box from her hand. “All right.” I thanked all the ladies again and walked out the door.
I stood on the sidewalk for a moment, and a second later Deputy Little came out the door. He held his box of fudge in his hand as if his life depended on it. Then he crossed Main Street without so much as a second glance at me. There would be some very difficult choices in the future for those two, I knew, if things went the way I believed they would.
I shook my head. The romantic entanglements of the young! Then I thought of Uriah, and maybe the not-so-young too . . .
I stopped and admired the square and the apple trees and gas-powered lampposts that marched up Main Street. Harvest was lovely, and despite this latest event, I was happy to be back in the village where I had friends like Lois and happy memories of falling in love with Kip.
I was about to cross Main Street again to return to Bessie and my buggy when the door to the candy shop opened after me. “Millie!” Charlotte Weaver called.
I turned and looked at the young Amish woman. Her cheeks were a lovely shade of pink. I didn’t know if that was from the heat of the kitchen or the close proximity to Deputy Little.
I smiled. “Can I help you, Charlotte?”
Her face turned even redder, changing from a pretty blush to the shade of a sun-ripened tomato. “I was wondering if . . .” She blushed even more.
I patted her arm. “You want my matchmaking help?”
She looked at me with her bright green eyes. “Ya, I have been confused about so many things, and I thought that if . . .”
“If you were being courted by a nice Amish man, things would be made clearer.”
Deputy Little stood across the square, speaking with a tourist. It was clear from the way he was pointing that he was giving directions.
“Charlotte?”
She looked away from the young deputy. She nodded. “That’s my hope.”
“It may be easier if you first decide whether you want to remain Amish or not. You cannot base your decision about what you believe on someone else.”
She hung her head. “I know. I’m so torn. I wish I could be in both worlds, like Bailey.”
“Bailey isn’t in both worlds,” I said. “She has access to both and you will too, no matter what you decide.” I paused. “If you make the decision before you are baptized.”
She nodded. “I know what will happen if I’m baptized and change my mind.” She looked over her shoulder at the candy shop as if to check that the door was firmly closed and no one could hear us. “But can you let me know if you see the right man for me, please?”
I smiled, thinking that I might already have seen him. “I will.” I took a step toward the street.
“That’s not all though,” she said.
I raised my brow. “You have more you want to tell me about finding you a match.”
She shook her head. “I heard a rumor that there was something strange going on at the place where Zeke worked, Swartz and Swartz Construction.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning in and searching her face for any clue as to what she was trying to tell me.
“I—I don’t know, but I heard at a volleyball match with the youth of the district that it might be something illegal. I thought you should know.” With that, she spun around and went back into the candy shop.