Chapter One
Laura Meade opened her laptop, entered the correct
password to put her online, and began the e-mail she
had been meaning to write for the past week:
Dear Shannon,
I'm finally settled in at the Lancaster School of
Design. I think I'm going to like it here. Not only
is the college rated in the top ten, but the area is
beautiful, and the Amish I've seen are unbelievable!
I haven't met any of them up close and personal, but
from what I've seen, the women wear simple, dark-colored
dresses, with little white hats on their heads.
The men wear cotton shirts, dark pants with suspenders,
and either a straw or black felt hat with a wide
brim. They drive box-shaped, closed-in buggies pulled
by a horse.
Tomorrow, I'm going to the farmers' market. I hear
it's a great place to get good buys on handmade Amish
quilts. I may even be able to acquire some helpful decorating
ideas there.
I hope you're doing well and enjoying your new job.
I'm looking forward to seeing you at Christmas and
hearing about those preschoolers you teach.
Your friend,
Laura
Laura thought about sending an e-mail to her parents,
but she had talked to them on the phone just an hour ago,
so there wouldn't be much to write about now. Moving away
from the desk, she picked up a brush from the dresser and
began her nightly ritual of one hundred strokes through her
long, thick tresses.
She glanced around the room with disdain. Even the
smallest room at home was bigger than this dinky dorm
room. Fortunately, she would only be here two years. Then
she could return to Minneapolis and redecorate to her
heart's content-starting with her own bedroom at home.
"It's stifling in here." Laura dropped the hairbrush onto
the bed and went to open the window. A slight breeze trickled
through the screen, but it did nothing to cool the stuffy
room. Here it was the first week of September, and the days
were still hot and humid. To make matters worse, the air-conditioning
wasn't working right and probably wouldn't
be fixed until later in the week, according to what she'd
been told.
Fall had always been Laura's favorite time of year.
Someday, she hoped to decorate her own home with harvest
colors. The kitchen windows would be outlined with sheer
yellow curtains. The living-room, dining-room, and bedroom
floors would be covered with thick, bronze carpets.
She wanted to decorate with Early American furniture and
to hang plenty of paintings from that era on the walls.
Mom and Dad had allowed her to travel halfway across
the country to attend the Lancaster School of Design, despite
the fact that several good schools were closer to home.
When Laura had heard about this one so near to the heart
of Amish land, she'd known she had to come. She'd read
about the interesting culture of the Plain People on a few
Web sites and was sure she could gain some unique decorating
ideas here in Lancaster County.
Laura glanced at the photo of Dean Carlson, set in a
gold frame on top of her dresser. Dean was the newest member
of her father's law firm, and he had given her the picture
soon after they'd started dating three months ago. Dean
hadn't been too happy about her moving to Pennsylvania,
even though she had assured him it would only be for a
couple of years. She wasn't sure if his reluctance to see her
go was because he cared so much or if he might be worried
that she would find someone else and end up staying in
Pennsylvania.
A loud knock jolted Laura out of her musings. With
an exasperated sigh, she crossed the room and opened the
door.
A young woman with short, curly blond hair stood in
the hallway. "Hi. I'm Darla Shelby. I have the room next to
yours."
Laura smiled. "I'm Laura Meade."
"Nice to meet you. Where are you from?"
"Minneapolis. How about you?"
"I grew up here in Lancaster, moved to New York with
my folks when I was sixteen, and came back here again to
attend this school." She grinned. "But my favorite place
to be is Philadelphia. In fact, since tomorrow's Saturday,
I thought I'd drive into Philly and do some shopping.
Would you like to go along?"
"So you must have your own car?"
Darla nodded. "It's a little red convertible-got it for my
birthday last year."
Laura thought about her own car parked in the garage
at home. She wished she could have driven it here, but her
parents had insisted that she fly to Pennsylvania and lease a
car during her stay.
"I realize we've only just met," Darla continued, "but I
figure what better way to get acquainted than during a shopping
spree."
Laura leaned against the doorframe as she contemplated
the tempting offer. "I appreciate the invitation, and I'd love to
go with you some other time, but I had planned to go to the
farmers' market at Bird-in-Hand tomorrow. I understand some
of the Plain People go there to shop and sell some of their
wares."
Darla nodded. "Those Amish and Mennonites are quite
the tourist attraction around here."
"Why don't you go to the market with me, and we can
do some shopping there?"
Darla wrinkled her nose. "No way! I'd rather be caught
in the middle of rush-hour traffic on the turnpike than
spend the day with a bunch of farmers."
Laura giggled. "Those farmers do look pretty interesting."
"Maybe so, but they're not interesting enough for me to
give up a day of shopping in Philly." Darla turned toward
her own room, calling over her shoulder, "Whatever you
do, Laura, don't let too much of that Amish culture rub off
on you."
* * *
As Eli Yoder left Strasburg, where he worked at a store that
made handcrafted Amish furniture, he thought about the
conversation he'd had with Pauline Hostetler after church
last Sunday. He had made the mistake of telling her that he
planned to rent a table at the farmers' market this Saturday
to sell some of the items he'd created in his wood shop at
home.
"Oh, Eli," he could still hear her say, "I was planning to go
to the market on Saturday, too. Maybe the two of us could meet at
noon and eat lunch together."
"Pauline's after me to court her," Eli mumbled, as he
headed down the road toward home in his buggy.
His horse whinnied as if in response and perked up his
ears.
"Are you sympathizing with me, boy?" Eli chuckled and
flicked the reins to get his horse trotting a bit faster. It was
fun to ride in his open buggy and go a little faster than
usual. It made him feel free and one with the wind whipping
against his face.
I won't be free for long if Pauline has anything to say about it.
I think she's in cahoots with Mom to see me join the church so I
can get married and settle down to raising a family. Eli frowned.
It wasn't that he didn't want to get married someday. He
just hadn't found the right woman yet, and he was sure it
wouldn't be Pauline. He was in no hurry to be baptized and
join the church until he felt ready to settle down. So Mom
would have to learn to be patient.
"Why'd I agree to meet Pauline for lunch?" Eli fretted.
"She's likely to take it to mean I have an interest in her, and
then she'll expect me to start officially calling on her."
He gripped the reins a little tighter. "I'll have lunch with
her on Saturday because I promised I would, but I'll have to
figure out some way to let her know there's no chance of us
having a future together."
* * *
A ray of sun filtered through the window, causing Laura to
squint when she opened her eyes. She peeked at the small
clock on her bedside table. It was nearly nine o'clock. She
had slept much later than she'd planned.
Jerking the covers aside, she slipped out of bed and
headed for the shower. A short time later, as Laura studied
the contents of her closet, she had a hard time deciding
what to wear. She finally opted for a pair of blue jeans and a
rust-colored tank top. She pulled her long, auburn hair into
a ponytail and secured it with a navy blue scrunchie.
"Nothing fancy, but I'm sure I look good enough to go
to the farmers' market," she said to her reflection in the
mirror. "Amish country, I hope you're ready for me because
here I come!"
* * *
Mary Ellen Yoder had just begun supper preparations when
her husband, Johnny, stepped into the kitchen, holding a
pot of pansies in his hands. He grinned at her and placed
the pot on the counter. "These are for you. I got 'em from
the Beachys' greenhouse."
She turned from her job of cutting vegetables for a stew
and smiled. "Such a thoughtful husband I have. Danki,
Johnny."
His smile widened, and he leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"I still remember the first bouquet of flowers I bought for
my special girl. Do you?"
She nodded. "That was way back when you were doing
everything you could to get me to allow you to come
courting."
He slipped his arm around her waist and gave her a
squeeze. "And it worked, too, didn't it? We not only started
courting, but you agreed to marry me, and now we've got
ourselves four of the finest kinner around."
"Jah, I agree." Mary Ellen smiled and resumed cutting
her vegetables.
"And let's not forget that spunky little kindsbuh our
daughter gave us a few years back."
"Now if we can just get our three buwe married off so they
can add more grandchildren to our family," Mary Ellen said.
"I think the chances of Lewis and Jonas finding wives
might be pretty good since they've already joined the church,
but Eli's another matter."
Mary Ellen sighed and glanced at Johnny over her shoulder.
"It's hard for me to understand why he keeps saying
he's not ready to settle down when he's got a fine woman
like Pauline Hostetler interested in him. Eli's twenty-three
years old already and has gone through his rumschpringe
long enough. Wouldn't you think he'd be eager to end his
running-around years and start courting a pretty girl?"
Johnny shrugged. "I don't want to get your hopes up,
but I heard Eli talking to Jonas last night, and he mentioned
that he's got plans to meet Pauline for lunch on Saturday
when he goes to the farmers' market to sell some of his
handmade wooden items."
Despite her husband's warning, Mary Ellen's hopes began
to soar. "Really? You heard that?"
"Heard it with my own ears, so it's not just say-so."
She smiled. "Now that is good news. Jah, the best news
I've had all day."
* * *
When Laura stepped out of her air-conditioned car, a blast
of heat and humidity hit her full in the face. She hurried
into the market building and was relieved to find that it was
much cooler than the outside air had been.
The first table Laura discovered was run by two young
Amish women selling an assortment of pies and cookies.
Both wore their hair parted down the middle, then pulled
back into a tight bun. They had small, white caps perched
on top of their heads, and their long-sleeved, dark blue
dresses were calf-length, with black aprons and capes worn
over the front. One of the women smiled and asked Laura
if she would like to sample something.
She stared longingly at a piece of apple pie. They did
look delicious, but she'd had breakfast not long ago and
didn't think she needed the extra calories.
"No thanks. I'm not really hungry right now." The truth
was Laura was always counting calories, and she figured one
bite of those scrumptious pastries would probably tip the
scales in an unfavorable direction. She moved on quickly
before temptation got the better of her.
The next few tables were run by non-Amish farmers.
The items they offered didn't interest Laura much, so she
found another table where an elderly Amish woman sold
handmade quilts.
"Those are gorgeous. How much do they cost?" she asked.
The woman showed her each one, quoting the prices,
which ranged from four hundred to nine hundred dollars.
"I'm definitely going to buy one," Laura said without
questioning the price. "I don't want to carry it around while
I shop, though. Can you hold this one for me?" She pointed
to a simple pattern that used a combination of geometric
shapes done in a variety of rich autumn colors.
"Jah, sure. I can hold it."
"Great. What's this one called, anyway?"
"It's known as `Grandmother's Choice.'" The Amish
woman's fingers traveled lightly over the material.
Laura smiled. "I like it very much. I'll be back for it before
I leave, but I can pay now if you'd like."
"Pay when you come back; that'll be fine." The woman
placed the quilt inside a box, then slipped it under the table.
It was getting close to lunchtime, so Laura decided to
check out one more table, then look for something nonfattening
to eat.
The next table was loaded with a variety of hand-carved
items. Laura glanced around for the person in charge but
didn't see anyone. She picked up one of the finely crafted
birdhouses and studied the exquisite detailing. When a young
Amish man popped up from behind the table, she jumped,
nearly dropping the birdhouse. He held a box filled with
more birdhouses and feeders. His sandy brown hair was cut
in a Dutch-bob, and a lock of it fell across his forehead. His
deeply set, crystalline blue eyes met Laura's gaze with such
intensity it took her breath away. Her cheeks grew hot, and
she quickly placed the birdhouse back on the table. "I-I was
just admiring your work."
A hint of a smile tweaked the man's lips, revealing a
small dimple in the middle of his chin. "I'm a woodcarver
and carpenter, and I'm thankful God has given me the ability
to use my hands for something worthwhile."
Though Laura had been to church a few times in her
life, she wasn't particularly religious. In fact, the whole
church scene made her feel kind of nervous. Nibbling on
the inside of her cheek, she merely nodded in response to
the man's giving credit to God for his abilities.
"Are you looking for anything special? I also have some
wooden flowerpots and ornamental things for the lawn."
He lifted one for her inspection.
Laura stared at the small, decorative windmill in his
hand, and her gaze traveled up his muscular arm. Below his
rolled-up shirtsleeve, his tanned arms were feathered with
light brown hair. She moistened her lips and brought her
wayward thoughts to a halt. "I . uh . live in a dorm room
at the Lancaster School of Design, so I really don't have a
need for birdhouses or whirligigs."
His dark eyebrows drew together. "Don't think I've ever
heard of that school."
"I'm learning to be an interior decorator," she explained,
drawing her gaze to his appealing face, then back to the items
on the table.
When he made no comment, she looked up again and
saw that he was staring at her with a questioning look.
"My job will be to help people decorate their homes in
attractive styles and colors."
"Ah, I see. So do you live around here, then?"
She shook her head. "I'm from Minneapolis, Minnesota.
I've already studied some interior design at one of our local
community colleges, and I'm here to complete my training."
There was an awkward silence as they stood staring at
one another.
"Eli, well, there you are! I thought we were supposed to
meet for lunch. I waited outside, but you never showed up
so I figured I'd better come looking."
A young, blond-haired Amish woman, dressed similarly
to the Plain women Laura had seen earlier, stepped up to
the table.
"I'm sorry, Pauline," he said. "I got busy talking with this
customer and forgot about the time." He considered Laura a
moment. "Is there anything you're wantin' to buy?"
"No. I . uh . was just looking."
"Eli, if you're finished here, can we go have lunch now?"
Pauline took a few steps closer, brushing her hand lightly
against Eli's arm.
"Jah, Pauline." Eli glanced back at Laura. "It was nice chatting
with you, and I wish you the best with your studies and
all." He turned away, leaving his wooden items unattended.
Laura shook her head. That man is sure trusting. And how in
the world could someone as simply dressed as him be so adorable?
* * *
As Eli and Pauline exited the building, he glanced over his
shoulder. The young English woman still stood beside his
table. She's sure a fancy one. Fancy and very pretty. I wonder why
someone like her would be interested in birdhouses?
"Eli, where do you want to eat lunch?"
Pauline's question and her slight tug on Eli's shirtsleeve
brought his thoughts to a halt.
"I thought you carried a picnic basket," he said peevishly.
"I did, but I wasn't sure where you wanted to eat it."
He shrugged. "It makes no difference to me."
"Let's go to the picnic tables out back."
When Eli gave no response, she grabbed his sleeve
again. "What's wrong? You're acting kind of naerfich."
"I'm not nervous. I've just got a lot on my mind."
(Continues.)