Chapter 5
5
Sunday morning as Lois cooked her oatmeal, a male ruby-throated hummingbird flew near the kitchen window, flitted about, and then found the nectar in the feeder. Lois froze. Her heart fluttered as fast as the bird’s beating wings. It was her first sighting of a hummingbird for the year.
After it flew away, Lois grabbed her notebook from her backpack and recorded the sighting. She and Dat and Mamm used to celebrate the sighting of the first hummingbird each spring after the birds’ long journey home from wintering as far south as Costa Rica and Panama. One time Dat said he wished they could follow the hummingbirds to Central America, although they all knew it would never happen. They had no one to take care of the animals on the farm nor the money to travel. Lois couldn’t imagine such a trip.
She put her notebook away, ate her oatmeal, and washed the pan and her bowl. As she scootered to church services at the Millers’ farm, her bandage pulled against the road rash on her leg. She did her best to ignore it.
The weather had turned cool overnight and clouds scudded across the gray sky. The wind picked up and raindrops began to fall. By the time she arrived, the rain had soaked her fluorescent vest and her Kapp, even though she’d worn her hood. Her raincoat protected most of her dress but not the bottom of it.
As she zipped past the row of buggies, a few people called out greetings to her. She waved and kept on going. People gathered outside the shed, huddled under umbrellas. She parked her scooter under the eaves of the building and hurried toward the entrance. She was too cold to wait outside.
As she stepped through the door, someone called her name. She turned. John. She shed her backpack and vest and waved.
He approached with a smile. Before he spoke, she said, “I would like to go to the singing with you tonight.”
His smile spread into a grin. “I’ll pick you up at five.”
She smiled and wiggled out of her raincoat. Thankfully she had a fleece on underneath to ward off the chill in the cold shed.
“I need to go help my Dat,” John said. “I’ll see you after the service.”
Lois gave him a wave and then stashed her backpack in the corner. She spread her vest and raincoat over the top to dry. She waited until everyone started filing in and joined the unmarried young women.
After the singing ended and the sermon began, her mind wandered. Where should she look for a job? She didn’t want to work as a mother’s helper or in a restaurant. Perhaps another shop. She should find a job first and then figure out where to live, a temporary place, if, in fact, things worked out with John.
The Miller farm was immaculate with its white barn, shed, and other outbuildings and the enormous two-story farmhouse. Could she marry John Miller if he asked? That would certainly offer her an appealing place to live and a job—being an Amish farmwife. It was more than full-time work. She hadn’t been glicklick in her first two tries at love, but perhaps a third would be the proverbial charm.
She had the feeling someone was watching her. But who? John was sitting across the aisle a couple of rows ahead of her. He wasn’t watching her. She turned her head slightly.
Moses was sitting a row back. Lois jerked her head forward. What was he doing in the Amish service? Sure, it was his old district, but he didn’t live here anymore. And he was Mennonite. Why would he come back?
After the service ended, Lois stood and did her best to sneak a glance at Moses—without letting him see she was looking for him. But he was gone.
She sat down to eat the simple meal of bean soup and bread with the other members of her district. She’d known many of the people since she’d arrived in Lancaster County with her parents.
Until then, Lois’s father had worked with his father and his son on the family farm in Big Valley. But when Lois’s grandfather passed away when Lois was six, they all discovered he’d willed the family farm and house to Lois’s brother—not to Dat—skipping a generation.
Randy had always been their grandfather’s favorite, but it was still a shock he’d leave the farm to a grandchild instead of his own son.
Nevertheless, at first it seemed nothing would change, allowing her father and brother to continue working in the same way they had for the last several years. But soon Randy started to disagree with Dat about the crops and the finances and where to reinvest the profits from the farm. After Randy and Deanna’s third child was born, Randy insisted Dat, Mamm, and Lois move into the Dawdi Haus so his family could have the bigger house to themselves.
It made sense, but once they settled in the Dawdi Haus, Randy became cold to his parents. He stopped asking Dat’s advice and made several mistakes when it came to farming. Instead of admitting his mistakes, he became defensive. Their grandfather had been a harsh and demanding man, and Randy had taken after him, not their kind and loving father. Around then, Randy’s wife started refusing Mamm’s help and instead Deanna’s mother, a widow, moved into the farmhouse. A month later Dat found the farm in Lancaster County, and in the following years Lois and her parents never returned to Big Valley, nor did Randy and his family travel to Paradise to visit.
“Lois.”
She turned.
John stood behind her. “Are you finished?”
“Jah.” She stood and picked up her half-full bowl.
“Not hungry?”
“I guess not.” She took a step toward the kitchen. “I should start home. I’ll see you soon.”
He grinned again. “At five, on the dot.”
She smiled back at him. “I have a question for you,” she said before he could leave.
“Oh?”
“Do you know why Moses was here?”
John shook his head. “I didn’t have a chance to ask him. He left during the last prayer.” He smiled again. “Maybe he plans to rejoin us.”
Lois doubted that. In fact, she hoped not. She didn’t want to have to deal with him at church too.
John leaned toward her. “More likely, he left early to get over to the Mennonite church before it started at eleven.”
Lois guessed that was the case. Although she still thought it odd he would worship with the Amish at all.
She retrieved her backpack and her damp vest and raincoat. After she put both on, she made her way out of the shed. As she scootered back down the highway, a buggy approached from behind. Again, she moved to the right. Until someone called out her name.
“Lois!”
She spun to a stop. It was the voice she wanted to hear most in the entire world, besides Mamm’s or Dat’s.
“Get in!” Amy leaned out her window. She grinned and her rosy cheeks pushed up toward her sparkling eyes. Her dimples flashed.
Lois broke out laughing as she stepped off the scooter. “Amy!” The two had been friends since Lois’s first day of school in Lancaster County. “Where are you going?”
“To pick up the kids at my parents’.”
“Where’s Bennie?”
“Home with a laboring cow.” She waved her hand toward the rear of the buggy. “Put that thing in the back.”
Lois rolled the scooter alongside the buggy, barely managed to lift it in, and ran around to the passenger side. As she climbed in, she said, “Denki for the letter about the circle letter. I’m going to join.”
“Oh good! I hope there’s an eligible Amish bachelor in the group.”
Lois let out an exaggerated sigh. “So do I.”
As they reached the lane, Scotty’s car was ahead of them, making its way under the white canopy of cherry blossoms. He parked close to the shop and walked around back. He never worked on Sundays—of course the shop was always closed on the Lord’s Day.
“What’s Scotty doing?” Amy asked.
Lois shifted on the bench and turned toward her friend. “I’m not sure, but you won’t believe what’s happened.” She told Amy about Scotty wanting to sell the shop and Moses wanting to buy it.
“Moses Lantz?”
“Jah,” Lois said.
A smile crept across Amy’s face as she turned into the parking lot.
“What?” Lois demanded.
Amy placed her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
Lois grumbled, “That’s even worse than smiling.”
“I never guessed Moses Lantz would come back into your life.”
Lois slumped down on the bench. “Neither did I.”
At five on the dot, John knocked on her apartment door. Lois grabbed her cloak and followed him down the staircase. The sun had come out and warmed the world some. The grass was still damp as they walked to the buggy, which was one of the newest and nicest around.
John opened the passenger door. Lois climbed up to the seat. In the back sat John’s brother Mark and a young woman Lois didn’t recognize.
Lois turned her head and said, “Hello, Mark.” Then she turned toward the woman. “I’m Lois.”
“I’m Evelyn.” She had dark eyebrows and dark-blond hair. “It’s so cool that you live above Paradise Found.”
Lois smiled. “I agree.” She had been more thankful than ever the last three days for her job and her apartment, knowing two of the biggest blessings in her life would soon come to an end.
“I’ve wondered who lived there for the longest time.”
“Are you from around here?” Lois asked.
“No.” Evelyn shot Mark a smile. Her voice grew sweeter. “We met at a Youngie gathering over by Elizabethtown. But my grandmother lives near here, which is where I’m currently staying.”
“Have you ever been in Paradise Found?”
“Only once. Just to look. You were helping a customer.”
Lois was surprised Evelyn remembered her.
As John flicked the reins and then turned the buggy onto the lane, Evelyn asked, “Do you live by yourself?”
“Jah,” Lois answered. She wasn’t going to say, especially in front of John, that the bishop wanted her to move—and now she did too with Moses taking over the shop.
Mark said, “Didn’t your mother used to live there with you?”
“Jah,” Lois said again. Until Mamm passed away.
Evelyn sat back against the seat. “I’d hate to live by myself.”
“It’s not so bad.” Lois faced forward. At times—more than she liked to admit—she was lonely, but that was far better than living with someone she didn’t love. Once Bishop Stephen began pushing her to give up her independence, she realized how much she preferred living alone.
As they passed the park, a hawk swooped down and then up toward the trees along the run.
John ducked. “What kind of bird was that?”
“A kestrel,” Lois answered.
John laughed. “I think I’ve been attacked by one of those even after offering him all the mice in the field.”
“That one was female.” Lois smiled. “Perhaps it was a she who attacked you.”
“Oh.” John glanced at her. Lois frowned. Perhaps she’d said too much about the bird.
John asked, “So is Moses Lantz buying Paradise Found?”
“What?” Evelyn’s voice grew closer. “Is that a real thing?”
John turned his head toward Lois again. “Do you know anything? Everyone’s talking about it.”
“I don’t know anything for sure.”
John snapped the reins. “I hope Moses will let you have a wiener roast in the field this summer, like Scotty did the last couple of years.”
Lois had hosted wiener roasts in the grassy area behind the shop the last two summers for the Youngie. Perhaps that was when John first noticed her. The event had been a hit and surprisingly fun for her too, but she doubted she’d be working in the shop by summer.
“Moses owns the new café,” Evelyn said. “I’m thinking about applying for a job there. I’d have to keep living with my grandmother....”
Lois stifled a yawn. The road rash on her leg had woken her up whenever she’d rolled over during the night.
Evelyn kept talking. “...Moses also owns Creekside Market.”
John shifted in his seat. “I still can’t believe he’d sell his father’s farms, three to Englischers, and blow his profits on businesses. He can never get that land back.”
Lois felt oddly defensive of Moses. Why? She agreed with John. There was nothing like a family farm.
Lois tried, she really did. She attempted to be attentive toward John before the singing when the couples all gathered outside the Miller family shed, but her mind kept wandering. Finally, she headed to the house to see if she could help John’s Mamm with the snacks.
“Denki, Lois,” Wanda said. “I could use an extra set of hands. How have you been?”
“ Gut .” Lois grimaced. Why couldn’t she be chatty like Evelyn? She asked Wanda, “How have you been? How many grandchildren do you have now?” That was always a safe question to ask older Amish women.
“Twenty-three,” she said. “My five oldest children have been quite prolific. As you know, we only have two more to marry off.” She gave Lois a smile.
Lois forced herself to return it. “So I’ve heard.”
Wanda yawned, quickly covering her mouth.
“You’ve had a long day with the service and meal. And now the singing,” Lois said. “Go sit down and put your feet up. I’ll take the snacks out.”
Wanda’s shoulders sagged a little. “Denki. I will.” She glanced down at her sturdy shoes. “No one told me how much my feet would hurt with age.” She reached between the counter and the stove and pulled out a tray. “You should be able to get everything out in two trips with this.”
Lois took the tray.
Wanda gave her a wave. “You always have been a dear. I’ll never forget how well you took care of your Mamm—working all the while. You’ll make some fortunate man a good wife.”
Tears pushed against Lois’s eyes at the mention of her Mamm, and she turned back to the counter and loaded the gigantic bowl of popcorn and the plate of crackers. She had taken good care of her mother until that last night in the apartment. She hadn’t been there when her mother needed her the most. Lois headed out the door with the tray. She’d return for the peanut butter cookies and the bowls of apple and orange slices after she’d set up the snack table.
By the time everything was ready, Mark had started the singing. John and Mark sat on the boys’ side and Lois sat next to Evelyn on the girls’ side in the back row. There were twelve girls in attendance and, she counted, nine boys. Girls and boys. How about men and women? Although perhaps she was the only one considered a woman. Everyone else appeared to still be a girl.
The singing started with “ Lebt Friedsam ,” which translated “live peaceably,” and then a praise song. Mark led them in “Amazing Grace” next and then “Rock of Ages.” Lois shifted on the hard bench. Birds courted each other with songs too. And dancing—something the Amish Youngie would never do, not at a church-approved event, anyway.
After “How Great Thou Art,” the Youngie gathered around the snack table and filled their plates again. Lois scanned the shed and saw a cup on the floor. She went to retrieve it and when she stood, John was beside her.
“You served the food and now you’re cleaning up. You don’t need to do that.”
“Sure I do,” she said.
“Mark and I told Mamm we’d clean up.”
“I’ll help.”
He took the cup from her. “Come visit with everyone first.”
She’d much rather clean.
On the way home, Lois asked John to drop her off first. She didn’t want to ride to Evelyn’s grandmother’s house and then back to her apartment.
“Are you sure?” He sounded disappointed.
“I’m tired. I work tomorrow.” She knew he did too—and earlier. Still, she didn’t think she could stand another minute of this particular courting ritual.
When John pulled into the parking lot, she made herself wait until the buggy came to a complete stop before she opened the door. “Denki,” she said. “I had a wonderful time.” She turned toward the back of the buggy. “It was so nice to meet you, Evelyn. Come by the shop soon.”
“I will,” she answered.
“Wait,” John said. “How about the volleyball tournament next week?” He perked up a little. “Can you go to that? I’ll find a ride for us. Mark and Evelyn are going—” he turned toward the back seat—“right?”
“Jah,” Evelyn and Mark said in unison.
Lois swallowed. “Sure,” she said. She started to say I’d like to —but would she really? She stopped herself. She needed to ask Amy for pointers on how to navigate the mating game of Amish Youngie. If only she were still young.
John climbed down from the buggy and hurried over to help her down. She thanked him again and said, “ Guti Nacht .”
“ Guti Nacht .” He jogged back around to the driver’s side of the buggy. Lois waved as John drove the buggy to the lane, which was protected by the two rows of cherry trees with their white blossomy tops looking like Kappa in the night. She watched as they turned onto the highway.
Once the buggy was out of sight, Lois pulled her keys from her apron pocket and unlocked the door to the shop. She flicked on the light. Scotty’s wife, Barb, usually worked on Mondays to give Lois two days off each week. But Scotty had said they needed Lois to work the next day. Perhaps Barb wouldn’t be coming in any longer. She hoped she’d have a chance to tell her goodbye.
She wondered if Moses would expect Lois to work on Mondays. If so, he would need to pay her overtime. Of course, it wouldn’t be for long.
Lois stopped at the counter and tidied it up, stacking flyers and business cards. She had been so ready to be done on Saturday, she’d simply locked the door and left without doing her usual cleaning.
She headed to the utility closet to grab the broom. There was a light on under the door of Scotty’s office—but his car wasn’t out front. He never walked to the shop and certainly wouldn’t at night.
There was a rustling behind the door and then the sound of the office chair against the floor.
She continued on to the closet, grabbed the broom, and stepped to the office door. She raised the broom like a baseball bat and barked, “Who’s there?”
No one responded.
She raised the broom higher.
Footsteps fell across the office floor. The door swung open.
A giant of a man dressed in black sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and a backward baseball cap stood in front of her. He was handsome—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a thief.
Lois whacked him, aiming for his head, but she hit him across the chest. She pulled the broom back and swung again, but he grabbed it and twisted it away from her. “Lois! Stop!”
She took a step backward.
Moses crossed his arms over the broom.
She sputtered, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same.”
“Getting ready for work tomorrow. And you?”
“Going over Scotty’s books. He let me in. He said to go out the back door and lock up when I left.”
“Where’s your car?”
“I ran over.”
“You ran?”
He nodded. “Which is why I’m wearing running clothes.”
“How are you getting home?”
“I’ll run. Or get a rideshare if it’s late.”
Lois put her hand out for the broom. “I’ll leave you be.”
He didn’t uncross his arms. “I’m not sure I can trust you.”
“Trust me? You’re the one lurking in the office, scaring me half to death.”
He chuckled. “Did you think someone was robbing the store?”
“For sure.”
“And attacking said robber with a broom would force him to leave? Did you think about calling 9-1-1?” He smiled.
“For certain on attacking said robber.” She extended her hand and scowled. She’d forgotten how attractive Moses could be. She found the fact disconcerting. “And no, as far as calling 9-1-1. Give me the broom.”
He stopped smiling, handed her the broom, and closed the door.