Chapter One
A chill shot through Grace Hostettler. Stepping outside the restaurant
where she worked, she had spotted a redheaded English man
standing near an Amish buggy in the parking lot. He wore blue jeans
and a matching jacket and held a camera in his hands. Something about
the way he stood with his head cocked to one side reminded her of
Gary Walker, the rowdy Englisher she had dated for a while during her
rumschpringe, her running around years. But it couldn't be Gary. She
hadn't seen him since-
Grace pressed her palms to her forehead. Her imagination was
playing tricks on her; it had to be. She forced her gaze away from the
man and scanned the parking lot, searching for her sister. She saw no
sign of Ruth or of her horse and buggy. Maybe I should head for the
bakeshop and see what's keeping her.
Grace kept walking, but when she drew closer to the man, her
breath caught in her throat. It was Gary! She would have recognized
that crooked grin, those blazing blue eyes, and his spicy-smelling cologne
anywhere.
He smiled and pointed the camera at her. A look of recognition
registered on his face, and his mouth dropped open. "Gracie?"
She gave one quick nod as the aroma of grilled onions coming from
the fast-food restaurant down the street threatened to make her sneeze.
"Well, what do you know?" He leaned forward and squinted.
"Yep, same pretty blue eyes and ash blond hair, but I barely recognized
you in those Amish clothes."
Grace opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "What
happened? Couldn't make it in the English world?"
"I-I-"
"Don't tell me you talked Wade into joining the Amish faith." He
slowly shook his head. "I can just see the two of you traipsing out to
the barn to milk cows together and shovel manure."
Grace swallowed against the bitter taste of bile rising in her throat.
"D-don't do this, Gary."
He snickered, but the sound held no humor. "Do what? Dredge
up old bones?"
Grace wasn't proud that she'd gone English during her rumschpringe
or that she'd never told her folks any of the details about the time she'd
spent away from home. All they knew was that she had run off with
some of her Amish friends, also going through rumschpringe, so they
could try out the modern, English world. Grace had been gone two
years and had never contacted her family during that time except for
sending one note saying she was okay and for them not to worry. They
hadn't even known she was living in Cincinnati, or that-
"So, where is Wade?" Gary asked, halting Grace's runaway thoughts.
She shivered despite the warm fall afternoon and glanced around,
hoping no one she knew was within hearing distance. The only people
she saw were a group of Englishers heading down the sidewalk toward
one of the many tourist shops. "Wade's gone, and . and my family
doesn't know anything about the time I spent living away from home,
so please don't say anything to anyone, okay?"
He gave a noncommittal grunt. "Still keeping secrets, huh, Gracie?"
His question stung. When she'd first met Gary while waiting tables
at a restaurant in Cincinnati, she hadn't told him she was Amish. It
wasn't that she was ashamed of her heritage; she'd just decided if she
was going to try out the English world, she should leave her Amish way
of life behind.
But one day when a group of Amish kids came into the restaurant,
Grace spoke to them in German-Dutch, and Gary overheard their
conversation. He questioned her about it later, and she finally admitted
that she was from Holmes County, Ohio, and had been born and
raised Amish. Gary had made light of it at first, but later, as his quick
temper and impulsive ways began to surface, he started making fun
of Grace, calling her a dumb Dutch girl who didn't know what she
wanted or where she belonged.
When Wade came along and swept Grace off her feet with his
boyish charm and witty humor, she'd finally gotten up the courage to
break up with Gary. He didn't take to the idea of her dating one of
his friends and had threatened to get even with her. Had he come to
Holmes County to make good on that threat?
"Wh-what are you doing here, Gary?" Her voice sounded raspy,
almost a whisper, and her hands shook as she held her arms rigidly at
her side.
"Came here on business. I'm a freelance photographer and reporter
now." He jiggled his eyebrows. "Sure didn't expect to see you, though."
Grace heard the rhythmic clip-clop of horse's hooves and spotted her
sister's buggy coming down the street. "I-I've got to go." The last thing
she needed was for Ruth to see her talking to Gary. Her sister would
no doubt ply her with a bunch of questions Grace wasn't prepared to
answer.
Gary lifted his camera, and before Grace had a chance to turn her
head, he snapped a picture. "See you around, Gracie."
She gave a curt nod and hurried away.
* * *
Ruth squinted as she looked out the front window of the buggy. What
was Grace doing in the restaurant parking lot, talking to an English
man with a camera?
She guided the horse to the curb, and a few minutes later, Grace
climbed into the buggy, looking real flustered. "H-how was your inter-
view?" she panted.
"It went fine. I got the job."
"That's good. Glad to hear it."
"Who was that man with the camera?" Ruth asked as she pulled
slowly away from the curb and into the flow of traffic.
Grace's face turned red as she shrugged. "Just . uh . someone
taking pictures of Amish buggies."
"It looked like you were talking to him."
"Jah, I said a few words."
"Were you upset because he was trying to take your picture?"
Grace nodded.
"Some of the English tourists that come to Berlin and the other
towns in Holmes County don't seem to mind snapping pictures without
our permission. Either they don't realize we're opposed to having our
pictures taken, or they just don't care." Ruth wrinkled her nose. "I feel
such aeryer when they do that."
Not even Ruth's comment about feeling vexed provoked a response
from Grace.
"Guess it's best if we just look the other way and try to ignore their
cameras."
"Uh-huh."
As Ruth halted the horse at the second stoplight in town, she
reached across the seat and touched Grace's arm. "Are you okay? You
look like you're worried about something."
"Just tired from being on my feet at the restaurant all day."
"You sure? That frown you're wearing makes me think you're more
than tired."
"I'll be fine once we get home." Grace smiled, although the expression
seemed forced. "Tell me about the bakeshop. What will you be
doing there?"
Ruth held her breath as the smell of manure from a nearby dairy farm
wafted through the buggy. "Mostly waiting on customers while Karen and
Jake Clemons bake in the other room," she said, clucking to the horse
to get him moving again when the light turned green. "Some days, I'll be
working by myself, and others, I'll be with my friend Sadie Esh."
"Are you wishing you could help bake?"
Ruth shook her head and turned the horse and buggy down the
back road heading toward their home. "Not really. I'll be happy to keep
waiting on customers until I get married some day. Raising a family is
my life's dream." Ruth glanced over at Grace. "Of course, I'll have to
find a husband first."
"What about Luke Friesen? You think things might get serious
between the two of you?"
"I don't know, maybe. For now I'm going to concentrate on my new
job." Ruth smacked her lips. "Just thinking about all those delicious
pastries and pies at the bakeshop makes me hungry."
"I'm sure Mom will have supper started by the time we get home,
so you'll be eating soon enough."
"Speaking of Mom, I heard her mention the other day that she'd
like for the two of you to get busy on your wedding dress soon."
Grace nodded and turned toward the window. Was she staring at
the vibrant fall colors on the trees lining the road, or was she trying to
avoid conversation?
"Do you still want me to help with the flowers for your wedding?"
Ruth questioned.
"Jah, sure."
"You'll need several fresh arrangements on the bridal table, and
I'm thinking maybe one big bouquet in the center of each of the other
tables would look nice."
"Uh-huh."
"Will you want some candles, too?"
Grace nodded.
"Since Cleon's mother and sister make beeswax candles, I'm sure
they'll want to provide those."
"Maybe so."
"I hope Cleon knows how lucky he is to be marrying my big sister."
"I-I'm the lucky one." Grace picked at her dark green dress as if
she noticed a piece of lint, but Ruth didn't see anything. Of course,
she couldn't look too closely as she had to keep her eyes on the road.
Just last week, a buggy coming down one of the hills on this stretch of
road between Berlin and Charm had run into a deer.
Grace sighed, and Ruth gave her a sidelong glance. If something
was bothering Grace, she would talk about it when she was ready. In the
meantime, Ruth planned to enjoy the rest of their ride home. Shades of
yellow, orange, and brown covered the birch, hickory, and beech trees,
and leaves of red and purple adorned the maple, oak, and dogwood. A
dappling of sunlight shining through the trees gave her the feeling that
all was right with the world-at least her little world.
* * *
Cleon Schrock stepped up to the counter near the front of the restaurant
where Grace worked and smiled at Sarah, the owner's daughter. "I came
to town on business about my bees, so I decided to stop and see Grace.
Would you tell her I'm here?"
Sarah shook her head. "Sorry, but Grace got off work about ten
minutes ago. Said something about meeting her sister, who had an
interview at the bakeshop."
"Okay, thanks." As Cleon turned toward the door, he felt a keen
sense of disappointment. He hadn't seen Grace since the last preaching
service, and that had been over a week ago. "Have a good evening, Sarah,"
he called over his shoulder.
"You, too."
Cleon opened the front door, and just as he stepped out, he bumped
shoulders with a tall, red-haired English man. The fellow held a fancy-looking
camera in one hand and a notebook with a chunky green pen
clipped over the top in the other. "Sorry. Didn't realize anyone was on
the other side of the door," Cleon said with a shake of his head.
"Not a problem. As long as you didn't ruin this baby, no harm was
done." The man lifted his camera. "She's my bread and butter these
days."
Cleon stood, letting the man's words sink in. "Are you a newspaper
reporter?"
"Nope. I'm a freelance photographer and reporter, and I've written
for several publications." He smiled, revealing a set of straight, pearly
white teeth. "The pictures I submit often bring in more money than
my articles."
Cleon gave a quick nod; then he started to turn away.
"Say, I was wondering if you'd be willing to give me a quick inter-
view. I'm trying to find out some information about the Amish in this
area, and-"
"Sorry, not interested." Cleon hurried down the steps and onto
the sidewalk. The last thing he wanted was for the Englisher to start
plying him with a lot of questions about the Amish way of life. He'd
read a couple of articles about his people in the newspaper recently,
and none of them had been accurate. Cleon rushed around back to
the parking lot, untied his horse from the hitching rail, and climbed
into the buggy. If he hurried, he might catch up with Grace and Ruth
on their way home.
Chapter Two
As Cleon headed down the road in his open buggy, all he could
think about was Grace and how much he wanted to see her. He
was excited to tell her about the latest contacts he'd made with some
gift stores in Sugarcreek and Berlin, and if he didn't spot her buggy on
the road, he would stop by her folks' place before going home.
The horse arched its neck and trotted proudly as Cleon allowed
his thoughts to wander back to the day he'd first seen Grace Hostettler.
It was almost four years ago-the day after he and his family had moved
here from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. He'd met Grace during a
preaching service that was held at her folks' house. She'd seemed kind
of quiet and shy back then, but after a while, they'd become friends
and were soon a courting couple.
He'd wanted to ask her to marry him sooner but had waited until
his beekeeping business was going strong enough to help support a
wife and family. Besides, Grace hadn't seemed ready for marriage until
a year ago. She had told him that she'd been gone from the Amish
faith for a time before joining the church and that she'd only been
back in Holmes County a few months before they'd met. Cleon had
tried a couple of times to ask about her rumschpringe years, but Grace
didn't seem to want to talk about them, so he'd never pressed the
issue. What Grace had done during her running around years was her
business, and if she wanted to discuss it, he figured she would.
A horn honked from behind, pulling Cleon's thoughts back to
the present, and he slowed his horse, steering the buggy closer to the
shoulder of the road to let the motorist pass. He gritted his teeth. At
this rate, he would never catch up to Grace's carriage.
Once the car had passed, Cleon pulled back onto the road and
snapped the reins to get the horse moving faster. The gelding flicked
his ears and stepped into a fast trot, and several minutes later, Cleon
caught sight of a black, closed-in buggy. Since no cars were in the
oncoming lane, he eased his horse out and pulled up beside the other
buggy. He saw Grace through the window on the left side, in the
passenger's seat, and Ruth on the right, in the driver's seat.
"Pull over to the side of the road, would ya?"
Ruth did as he asked, and Cleon pulled in behind her rig. He
climbed out of his buggy, sprinted around to the side of the Hostettler
buggy where Grace sat, and opened the door. "I went by the restaurant
hoping to see you, and when Sarah said you'd already left, I headed
down the road, hoping to catch up with you."
Grace offered him a smile, but it appeared to be forced. Wasn't she
glad to see him?
"I was hoping I could give you a ride home so we could talk."
Her face blanched, and she drew in a shaky breath. "Talk about
what?"
"About us and our upcoming wedding."
"Wh-what about it?"
Cleon squinted as he reached up to rub his chin. "What's wrong,
Grace? Why are you acting so naerfich?"
"I-I'm not nervous, just tired from working all day."
"She's been acting a bit strange ever since I picked her up in the
restaurant parking lot," Ruth put in from the driver's seat. She leaned
over and peered around Grace so she was looking right at Cleon. "If
you want my opinion, I think my big sister's feeling anxious about the
wedding."
"I am not." Grace's forehead wrinkled as she nudged Ruth's arm
with her elbow. "If you don't mind, I think I will ride home in Cleon's
buggy."
Ruth shrugged. "Makes no never mind to me, so I'll see you at
home."
* * *
As Grace climbed into Cleon's buggy, her stomach twisted as though it
were tied in knots. Had Cleon met Gary while he was in town? Could
Gary have told him things about her past? Is that why Cleon wanted to
speak with her? Maybe he'd decided to call off their wedding.
"Are you okay?" Cleon reached across the seat and touched Grace's
arm. "You don't seem like yourself today."
"I'm fine. What did you want to say to me concerning our wedding?"
"I wanted you to know that I lined up a few more honey customers
today, and if my business keeps growing, eventually I'll be able to stop
farming for my daed." Cleon smiled. "Once we're married, you can
quit your job."
A feeling of relief swept over Grace. Cleon must not have spoken
to Gary or learned anything about her past, or he wouldn't be talking
about her quitting her job after they were married.
He picked up the reins and got the horse moving down the road.
Grace pushed her weight against the back of the leather seat and
tried to relax. Everything was okay-at least for now.
They rode in silence for a while. Grace listened to the steady clip-clop
of the horse's hooves as the buggy jostled up and down the hilly
road, while she thought about Cleon's attributes. He was strong and
quiet, and ever since she'd met him, she'd appreciated his even temper
and subtle sense of humor. He was the opposite of Wade, whose witty
jesting and boyish charm she'd found appealing. But Wade had never
seemed settled, which could have accounted for the fact that he'd
worked as a cook for five different restaurants during the time they'd
been together.
As they passed an Amish farmer's field, the rustle of corn blowing
in the wind brought her thoughts back to the present, and she sighed.
(Continues.)
