The Unexpected Caller (The Amish Widows Club #1)

Chapter 1

— chapter one

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 string of 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.

Though, if she was being honest, the fault was probably hers.

The problem was that she’d already been married once and had no desire to be married again. Ever. So this constant parade of suitors was neither desired nor asked for. They’d just started appearing at her doorstep one year and one month after Willis died.

When the first one had shown up, she’d been so surprised, her good manners had taken over her personal preferences.

Instead of politely sending the man home, she offered him kaffi and a slice of the almond cream-cheese bread she’d made that morning.

When he asked for a second slice, she gave it grudgingly.

She really hadn’t wanted to give him any of her favorite afternoon treat in the first place.

“This is mighty gut bread,” he’d said with his mouth full.

“Danke.” She’d said the word while staring at her hands clenched in her lap.

“You are a modest woman. Not only can you cook and clean, but you are shy too.”

When she lifted her chin to meet his gaze, she’d seen true appreciation there.

She’d bitten the inside of her lip so she wouldn’t ask him to leave.

Unfortunately, that little decision with her first caller had created quite a stir among the single men in the area. Next thing she knew, men started coming around all the time. She’d had to start baking cookies, pies, and bread every morning just to keep up with their hearty appetites.

It was annoying. And exhausting.

Because she was ninety-nine percent sure that she didn’t want to be another man’s wife.

The only reason to consider such a thing would be to have a baby.

At long last. Even though the doctor had promised that there was nothing wrong with her, she and Willis had never been blessed with a child in their nineteen years of marriage.

However, if she ever did decide to get married again, it would not be to the man currently sitting on her couch. Zeke Detweiler was too brash and too bossy. Plus, he stared at her chest too much. Did he think she wouldn’t notice?

Then, to make matters worse, he’d been her husband’s boss. Leanna hadn’t liked Zeke when Willis was alive and she liked him even less now. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she could ask him to leave before his hour was up.

She’d learned that a widow, no matter what her age, was expected to be kind and proper. And demure.

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

“I would.” His gaze drifted over her again when she started to bend down to pick up his cup and saucer. “You are over forty now, jah?”

“I am forty-one.”

“That’s a gut age, I think. Not too young. Not too old.” He crossed his legs. “You could still have a babe.” His eyes narrowed. “You could, jah?”

“I suppose so.”

“Hmm,” said Zeke.

Gritting her teeth, Leanna forced her expression to remain calm. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured.

“Don’t forget that I like two teaspoons of sugar,” he said.

“I would never forget that, Zeke.” He needed all the sweetness he could get.

Only when she reached the privacy of her kitchen did Leanna press her hands to her eyes.

Tears were threatening. She needed to fight them back before Zeke noticed.

She’d learned that most of these later-in-life suitors looked for weaknesses.

Flaws. They could be used as ammunition to make her feel like she shouldn’t be alone anymore.

Or, perhaps, simply to make themselves feel better.

Taking a deep breath, Leanna poured Zeke another cup of coffee.

And yes, took care to add two teaspoons of sugar.

Mentally counting down the minutes, she returned to the living room.

The day had been pleasant. Almost springlike.

If she’d been alone, she would’ve walked barefoot on the smooth wood floor.

Instead, she was still in her gray dress, stockings, and black tennis shoes.

Zeke was leaning against the back of the couch and surveying her back 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?”

Zeke’s expression tightened. “I don’t believe in women reading. Especially not fiction.”

Though everything inside of her encouraged her to look away, she didn’t. Their church district was rather progressive. She’d never heard any of their bishops or deacons over the years tell women not to read whatever they wanted.

Looking him directly in the eye, she blurted, “What’s wrong with reading fiction?”

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

“What things?” Though Zeke was being rude, Leanna was curious. Her house was spotless, the coffee in his cup was 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 around her fortieth birthday, her tongue had gotten a little loose.

Or maybe it had happened when she’d had to stand by Willis’s grave and realize that everything in her life had changed.

Whatever the reason, she uttered some words that she probably shouldn’t have. “Since I have neither a husband nor children, I believe I have time to read books.”

Zeke frowned. “What about your housekeeping?”

Willis had taught her that a man’s pride was a delicate thing, but she had no desire to coddle Zeke’s delicate emotions. Even though she would probably regret her choice, she gave in to impulse. “What about it?”

Her words—or maybe it was her tone—obviously struck a nerve because Zeke flinched.

Leanna felt the corners of her lips lift a fraction before her composure returned. As the silence stretched and tightened between them, he finished his coffee. At last he stood up.

She did not.

“Leanna Mast, I do not believe we would suit.”

She knew they would not. But instead of voicing her opinion, she inclined her head. “Thank you for coming by this afternoon.”

“Humph.” He picked up his hat and strode to the 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, but one’s true personality does not. You would do well to remember that.”

She knew Zeke was looking for an apology. That wasn’t going to happen. Instead, she got to her feet, walked directly to the door, and opened it. “Good day, Zeke.”

After delivering one more scathing look, the man turned and walked down her front porch steps and almost ran into the rather short woman in a navy dress who was approaching on the walkway.

The woman stopped and gave him a pointed look.

Zeke quickly moved to the side. “Beg pardon,” he muttered as he strode down the walkway. He tipped his hat.

Her expression softened. “It’s quite all right,” she replied in a gracious tone. “No harm done at all.”

Of course, Zeke was already out of sight.

The woman turned, watching Zeke climb into his buggy. When she turned back to Leanna, her smile was bright. “It seems I came here just in time,” she said.