Unshaken

Sneak Peek at ey’s Next Amish Romance

She was so tired of being nice. No, that wasn’t true, Leanna Mast decided. She liked being nice. She was a nice person. She was just tired of being nice to the men who had started calling on her on Sunday afternoons. Most of them she’d known all her life. Some were old enough to be her father. None of them were husband material—if she were looking for one. She’d already been married once and had no desire to be married again. Ever.

But, if she did decide to get married again, it would not be to the man currently sitting on her couch. Mervin Detweiler was too brash and too bossy. Plus, he stared at her chest too much ... and he’d been her husband Willis’s boss. Leanna hadn’t liked him when her husband was alive. She liked Mervin even less now that Willis had gone to heaven.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she could ask him to leave before his hour was up.

Since she still had eighteen minutes to go, she gestured to his coffee cup. “Would you care for some more kaffi, Mervin?”

“I would.” He leaned back so she could reach down to pick up his cup and saucer.

Gritting her teeth, Leanna leaned over and picked them up, then stood up straight. “I’ll be right back.”

Only when she reached the privacy of her kitchen did she press her hands to her eyes. Tears were threatening. She needed to fight them back before Mervin noticed. She’d learned that all her later-in-life suitors looked for weaknesses. Her weaknesses were something they could focus on. Make her feel bad about. Make her feel like she shouldn’t be alone anymore.

Taking a deep breath, she poured Mervin another cup of coffee and hurried back to the living room. The spring day was warm and pleasant. If she’d been alone, she would’ve walked barefoot on the smooth wood floor. Instead, she was still in her gray dress and black tennis shoes.

Mervin was leaning against the back of the couch and surveying her wall of books when she returned. He was also frowning. So much so, he didn’t even bother to acknowledge that she’d refilled his cup.

“Are all of those yours, Leanna?”

Though she knew what he was referring to, she turned around. “Do you mean my books?”

“Of course.”

Facing him again, she nodded. “Yes, they’re my books. I like to read.”

“Willis allowed you to do that?”

“He did.” She lifted her chin. “Why do you ask?”

Mervin’s expression tightened. “I don’t believe in women reading.”

“Why not?”

“It keeps them away from more important things, don’t you think?”

“What things?” Though Mervin was being rude, Leanna was starting to get curious. Her house was spotless, her coffee fresh, she’d gone to church that morning, and he’d eaten two cookies that she’d baked only yesterday. What else was she supposed to be doing?

“Taking care of one’s husband and children.”

The proper and right thing would be to nod politely. Maybe smile in a self-deprecating way. But sometime in the last year, her tongue had gotten a little looser.

“Since I have neither a husband nor children, I believe I have time to read books.”

Mervin frowned. Finished his coffee. And then stood up. “Leanna, I don’t think we would suit.”

She knew they would not. But instead of stating it, she demurred and inclined her head. “Thank you for coming by this afternoon.”

“Harumph.” He picked up his hat and strode across the wood to her door. “I’d like to give you some advice, Leanna. Men don’t like women who speak their minds.” He looked her over. “Even women as attractive as you. Looks fade, sweetness does not. You would do well to remember that.”

She knew he was looking for an apology. That wasn’t going to happen. Instead, she opened the door. “Good day, Mervin.”

After delivering one more scathing look, he turned and walked down her front porch steps. And almost ran into the rather short woman in a crisp white kapp who was approaching.

The woman stopped and gave him a pointed look.

Mervin quickly moved to the side. “Pardon me,” he said.

“It’s quite all right, sir. No harm done at all.” She smiled at him before walking up Leanna’s steps. “I see I came here just in time,” she said.

It took Leanna a minute to place her new visitor’s name. “Hello. It’s Doreen, right?”

“Yes, dear. We’ve talked a few times at Brenneman’s. I sometimes come in with your mother-in-law, Edna.”

A couple of times a week, Leanna was a hostess at the cozy Amish restaurant. She remembered Doreen well because the woman was always smiling. But that didn’t explain why Doreen had shown up at her house. “Were you visiting Edna today?”

“Nee. I had church this morning too. But I did happen to see Edna the other day, and she told me that all the eligible men in the area had descended upon you like flies to honey. I thought I’d come over to see how you were faring.” She smiled again. “May I come in?”

The last thing in the world she wanted was another caller. She also wasn’t eager to talk to anyone about all her suitors—especially not someone who would likely report everything she said to Edna.

She really was so tired of being nice. “Of course. May I get you a cup of coffee?”

“I’d love one. That is, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Leanna was just about to offer Doreen a seat when she noticed that not only was Mervin’s cup and saucer and cookie plate still on the coffee table, he’d left crumbs on the seat cushion.

“Um, would you like to join me in the kitchen?”

Understanding filled the older woman’s eyes. “Of course, dear. You get your cup, I’ll get your caller’s.”

As they walked into the kitchen, Leanna could practically feel Doreen taking stock of the surroundings. The worn couch, her shelves of books, the clean baseboards. Her small but tidy kitchen. Boy, she hoped the woman wouldn’t stay too long.

“Please have a seat at the table. I have peanut butter cookies too. Would you care for some?”

“I would. I’ve heard stories about these cookies. Edna’s a fan.”

Leanna chuckled as she prepared Doreen’s coffee. “She’s easy to please.”

When she sat down after handing Doreen her cup and a plate of cookies, Leanna added, “I’m not sure what Edna told you about my suitors.”

“Not much.” She chomped down on a cookie, chewed, and swallowed. “These cookies are incredible, dear. Not too sweet and not too chewy. Just right.”

“Thank you.”

Doreen took another bite, washed it down with a sip of coffee, and then daintily wiped her lips. “Leanna, may I be blunt?”

“Yes.”

“From the moment we first met, I couldn’t help but think what a lovely woman you are. So proper and ladylike. My husband would’ve said you were a catch.”

“Ah, thank you?”

“However, I happened to notice that you never flirt with any of the men at Brenneman’s. Never seem to give any man more than a cursory look. Now, I know you’ve only been widowed for a year, so forgive me if I’m overstepping. But something tells me that maybe you aren’t in as quite a big of a hurry to remarry as some of the men around here might be imagining.” Folding her hands neatly in her lap, she asked, “Am I right?”

Doreen was being rude and intrusive.

She was also right.

Before Leanna could stop herself, she nodded.

Doreen smiled. “I thought so.”

“How did you know?”

“Because, my dear, I am a lot like you. I’m a widow too, you see. Not a recent one, I’m afraid. My Mike died thirteen years ago.” When she smiled again, her bottom lip quivered. “He was a wonderful man. The best of men. I adored him.” Regaining her composure, she winked. “Better yet, he adored me.”

Leanna smiled. “You were blessed.”

“Yes, dear, I was.” She took a deep breath, then added, “When my Mike died, I knew I lost the love of my life. I knew it.”

“I’m sorry.” Something inside of Leanna twisted painfully. She had loved Willis too. But they’d been childhood friends, and their marriage had been essentially arranged by their parents. They’d been happy together but not passionate. She’d been content. She missed Willis very much. But had she ever felt about Willis the way Doreen seemed to feel about Mike?

She didn’t think she had.

“I’m sorry too,” Doreen said. She shook her head. “But that isn’t why I came over here.” After staring at Leanna for a long moment, she pulled out a card. “I came over to give you this, dear.”

Leanna turned the small white business card over to see the front. The words AMISH WIDOWS CLUB in bright black letters blazed across the front of it.

Shocked, she dropped it on the table.

“What is this?”

“It’s an invitation, dear.” Reaching out, Doreen enfolded Leanna’s hands in her own. “I came over to let you know that there are quite a few widows in the area who don’t necessarily want to marry again. They’re tired of being set up with friends of friends and tired of being courted by desperate men in need of homecooked meals.” Taking a breath, her voice gentled. “Now, some are like me, who had a wonder ful marriage with the love of their lives and don’t want to marry again. Other women weren’t so blessed. Still others have their own private reasons for wanting to remain single. However, we all have something in common.”

“What’s that?”

“We yearn for friendships with like-minded ladies. We meet together about once a month in private. At each other’s houses. People think we’re doing sewing bees or making food for charity auctions or a host of other things. While we actually do all of that, we mainly just sit and chat and laugh and support each other. I think you would fit in just fine.”

After squeezing Leanna’s hands one more time, Doreen stood up. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time, dear. You take care now.”

Leanna hurried to her side. “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not sure—”

“I understand. When you have time, read the directions on the card. It will tell you what to do.” She stopped at the door. “Leanna, I promise that things will get better. They always do, ain’t so?”

And with that, Doreen turned back around and walked out the door, her rose-colored dress swishing around her ankles as the tails of her white kapp fluttered in the wind.

Walking back to the kitchen, Leanna felt as if she was in a daze. She sat back down in her chair. Ate one of her cookies.

And then, unable to help herself, she pulled the card toward her and read the entire card.

AMISH WIDOWS CLUB

We’re a group no one intended to join but no one wants to be without.

If you are interested in joining, call the number below. You’ll hear a recording listing the next meeting place, date, and time.

At the very bottom was a phone number.

Hands shaking, Leanna flipped the card over, but it was blank. She dropped it again and stepped away from the table. Stared at the card.

She’d been invited to join a club of widows who didn’t wish to get married again. It was shocking. Scary. And ... maybe alluring?

Feeling her cheeks heat, she picked it up, shoved it in her bill basket, and then hurriedly cleaned up the kitchen and the living room. Went outside and checked on her garden. Walked into her bedroom and saw her dress for tomorrow’s hostess job hanging on a peg.

Went into the bathroom and stared at herself. Saw her blue eyes and blond hair neatly arranged under a pristine white kapp. Examined her gray dress, the dress she wore to church and social gatherings for the last year.

Thought about Mervin and his rude behavior. And Leroy’s visit last week. And Daniel, who’d tried to kiss her cheek. And Abram, who’d asked if her house was paid off. And Scott—who wasn’t even Amish but had heard she was in the market for a new man.

Then she went to her bookshelf, picked up her favorite book, and sat back down in her chair. And realized that she wanted something more. Something more than just a good book to read. She wanted to stop grieving and making cookies for men she didn’t want to marry.

She was tired of doing what everyone else thought she was supposed to do.

Making up her mind, Leanna Mast walked back to the bill basket, picked up the card, then walked to her closet. In the back was a pink cardigan. Once upon a time, it had been her favorite sweater to wear over her dresses. She slipped it on and was pleased it still fit.

Tucking the card inside a pocket, she walked out of her house and headed down the street. It was time to start living again. It was time to make a phone call.