Chapter 5
— chapter five
Even though it was Sunday evening, Leanna was still reeling from her first meeting of the Amish Widows Club.
First of all, she’d been shocked to see several women she’d known all her life there.
Some of them she knew very well. Then there were other ladies whom she’d spied when they would run into each other at the bookmobile.
She’d seen them with their children and grands.
She’d attended many of their husbands’ funerals. Exchanged polite conversation whenever she passed them on the street or when they came to Brenneman’s for lunch.
She’d thought each of them had been doing her best to get through each day, all the while helping their kinner and grandchildren as much as they could.
And they surely were doing those things. But they were doing other things as well. They chatted and sewed together and exchanged recipes and laughed.
Some of them even did far more than that.
Leanna had stared in wide-eyed wonder as Doreen led a discussion about future activities for the club.
Activities that involved vacations and train travel.
One woman had shared postcards she’d picked up during a recent cruise twelve members had gone on.
Yes, she’d heard of a few Amish women who’d gone on a cruise.
But she thought that was a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing. Something on one’s bucket list.
These women? Well, it seemed some of these women intended to live the rest of their lives to the fullest—all without husbands by their sides.
Now that it was Sunday evening and she’d had more than a day to recover, Leanna wasn’t positive she’d return. She didn’t want to tell that to Doreen, but she also didn’t want to be the lone woman there who had no desire to travel much farther than Wooster from time to time.
Looking out at the frosty fields and the gray skies, she felt the silence something awful. Perhaps what she needed wasn’t a widows club but a dog. She’d always wanted one, and a hund would surely be a wonderful companion.
Or, perhaps, she should once again think about selling her farm.
More than one person had inquired if she’d be interested in selling.
If she did sell the farm, she could move into a small, tidy house in town .
. . or maybe even in an Amish-friendly retirement community.
She was sure she could meet for coffee with plenty of people there.
She tried that idea on for size. No, she wasn’t ready to start completely over or be surrounded by retirees. She just wanted to be happy.
Therefore, a pet might be her answer. Something alive and friendly.
It would be a good companion on cold, snowy days in midwinter.
She was just about to turn away from the window and work on a list of qualities she hoped to find in her new pet, when a man strode up her driveway.
Standing up, she groaned. She had another caller?
Was there a chance that she could pretend she wasn’t home? Maybe he hadn’t spied her from the street. She could stay silent until he left.
But then his chin lifted. And it felt like he was looking directly at her. Or maybe it was as if she was the one who couldn’t look away.
Because it was Evan Keim. Handsome, good, kind Evan Keim.
Her onetime secret crush. The man she used to compare every other man to . . . before he married Rose. Before she married Willis and realized that so many of her dreams involving wedded bliss had been unrealistic.
Evan Keim was here. He’d come to call.
Nee, he’d come to call on her.
Immediately, she shook her head. That was ridiculous. She’d known him for years and years. Never had he been anything but distantly cordial. Plus, he had a package in his hands. Obviously he was delivering something to her as a favor for one of his many friends.
When she opened the door, a burst of cold air containing a sprinkling of fresh snow kissed her cheeks.
Despite the cold air, Leanna felt her skin heat with embarrassment. Her heart seemed like it was beating a little bit faster. Almost as if she was excited. What in the world was wrong with her?
“Ah, Leanna? Are you all right?”
No, she wasn’t all right. She’d just opened the door and stood there gaping at Evan Keim with, she was pretty sure, parted lips. She was a fool. And, to be sure, an unmannerly one at that.
She could do better. Pulling herself together, she smiled. “Of course. I’m right as rain. Please come in, Evan.”
Evan’s eyes seemed to narrow when they caught hers. But he did enter. And took hold of the door behind him and closed it with a firm click.
“Looks like winter’s not done with us yet. It’s cold out there,” he said.
“Yes. It’s snowing.”
When his eyes met hers again—both of their eyes brown, yet his were far lighter with a black band around the iris—he chuckled. “It seems we’re both masters of the obvious.”
“Indeed.” Fearing another blush coming on, she inhaled. “Where are my manners? May I take your coat?” She held out her hands.
He leaned the package against the wall. “It’s damp. Allow me to hang it up for you.”
“Of course.” She stood there, watching him pull off gloves, then unfasten the buttons, shrugging his coat off his very broad shoulders. He slid the gloves into one of the coat’s sleeves and then finally hung it on the hook.
Looking down at his boots, he grunted. “I’ll take these off too.”
She still didn’t move. Just stood there watching Evan bend down, loosen laces, and then toe off each of his very clean Red Wing boots.
And now her embarrassment was complete. She’d stood there like a fool as she watched Evan Keim disrobe. And she was still standing there, gaping at him. Goodness!
She turned around. “I have a fire going in the hearth room off the kitchen. It’s warmer than the living room. Would you like to sit there?”
“Wherever you prefer is my wish, Leanna.”
She swallowed as she led the way down the hall. She knew her lips were parted again. But honestly, who could blame her? Had she ever heard anyone speak like that? Willis never had. But she couldn’t recall ever hearing anyone say something so dreamy.
When they entered the hearth room, which she now decided was in need of a fresh coat of paint and perhaps a new rug, he stopped.
“I’ll be right back. I forgot something.”
The package. The whole reason he was there. “Would you like me to go with you?” That way he could hand over the thing and be on his way.
“Ah, no. I think I’ll be able to find my way back,” he teased.
She was making a fool of herself. “Yes. Of course. Ah, would you care for coffee? Or water?” She mentally inventoried her pantry. “Hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate?”
“I have marshmallows.”
“That sounds delicious. Danke.”
And then he backtracked while she practically ran to the kitchen. Clicking on the gas stove, filling the kettle, she forced herself to forget every critical thing Willis used to say about her cooking.
Ten minutes later, Leanna was sure she was more composed as she carried a tray with two cups of hot chocolate, a plate of homemade marshmallows, and a plate of biscotti into the hearth room.
“Here we are,” she said in what she hoped was her best hostess voice. “I hope you are feeling warmer.”
“Very much so.” He stood up to assist her. “Please, allow me.” He removed the tray from her hands, set it on the table, and then handed her a cup of hot chocolate as soon as she was seated. Only after she took a sip did he do the same.
It was all very disconcerting. Never in her life did she remember being the recipient of such attention. Certainly, her husband had never stared at her so intently. Well, not unless she’d done something wrong.
But her parents had never acted that way either. Not because they didn’t care but because there were so many other things that occupied their heads.
At least, that’s what she’d always assumed.
“The hot chocolate is gut,” he said after a small silence.
“Yes.” Irritated with herself, she added, “I mean, it’s nothing special. Just a mixture I put together every November. I am glad you like it, though.”
“The marshmallows are delicious as well.”
“Danke. I made them.” She was starting to get warm. Was it nerves? The hot drink combined with her proximity to the fireplace? The fact that she now noticed that Evan had a faint scar on his cheek? What could it have been from? A childhood fall?
He frowned. “What is it?”
“I was wondering—” She stopped herself in time. Asking him about scars seemed invasive and too personal. No, it was better to stick to the facts.
“Wondering what?”
“Why are you here?” Yes, she’d blurted it.
Evan drew back an inch. Not a flinch, but he was definitely taken aback. “I suppose I’m courting.”
She spied the package he’d brought in. “I thought you were delivering a package.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why . . . but you’ve got one with you.”
“It is a gift for you.”
“It is?”
He looked away. A pained expression crossed his face before he turned back to her, carefully composed. “I do beg your pardon. Do men not bring women gifts when they pay a call anymore?”
“I’m so sorry. I . . . yes, they sometimes do. Flowers. Occasionally.”
“It’s bitter cold and snowy. All the flowers around my house are dead.”
“Of course they are.” She took a deep breath. “Please forgive me. I misspoke.”
“Why would you think that I was only here to deliver a package?”
It was so tempting to lie, but she wasn’t going to do that anymore. Not if she could help it. “Because you are Evan Keim. I think you would be welcomed in any house in the county. I would’ve never thought you’d want to court me.”
“Are you really so modest?”
“Nee. Only trying to tell you the truth.”
He picked up his cup, took another sip. “The truth is that I’ve been considering this visit for quite a while. It took my youngest’s prodding for me to finally get up the nerve to walk over here.”
He had four sons. Four strapping boys. But the youngest was very dear. “Jeremy?”
Evan smiled. “Jah. You remember him?”
“Of course. And I’ve waited on him from time to time at Brenneman’s. And he’s waited on me at the furniture store.”