Chapter 1
— chapter one
Nineteen Months Later
May
Jenna and Katie had developed a routine of sorts.
Every morning after Jenna got up, got dressed, and had a cup of coffee, she would get Katie out of bed.
They’d have breakfast together and she’d walk her five-year-old to the Amish school a little less than a mile away.
After placing her precious daughter into the care of Miss Trudy, she’d go for a walk.
Sometimes she’d stop at the grocer’s and get a few basics. Sometimes she’d take a walk in the park or stop into the library. Most of the time, however, Jenna would go home, make two beds, run a dustcloth over things that were already clean, and write letters.
For some reason—she wasn’t quite sure why—she had always been a prolific letter writer.
She’d had four pen pals for almost ten years.
They were from all walks of life, and they lived all over the world.
One lived in Germany, another was a missionary in Mexico, yet another was a widow who lived in Pinecraft, and the last was a teacher in England.
Three were women, one was a man. Only two of them were Amish.
They were all different ages too. Sometimes she thought that the only thing she had in common with them all was the fact that they enjoyed writing letters as much as she did.
That didn’t matter to Jenna. What did was the fact that they’d become part of her lifeline since Jimmy had passed on to heaven.
Well, their correspondence and Nelson Harper’s visits once a week.
No matter how many times she’d tried to tell Nelson that he wasn’t responsible for Jimmy’s death and surely didn’t need to bring her care packages, he still did.
He’d also provided her with a sounding board when she hinted that she was thinking about selling her chickens and cows.
Not only had he agreed with her desire to simplify her life and buy milk and eggs at the store, but he’d also helped her sell the animals and the henhouse.
“You are going to be okay,” she whispered to herself as she fixed herself a cup of hot tea and walked to her writing desk.
Jimmy had built it for her when they were engaged.
He never completely understood her need for her pen pals, but he’d loved her enough to give her a place to organize her letters and write everyone back.
When the morning’s mail delivery brought her not one but two letters, Jenna hurriedly made the beds before sitting at her desk and opening Liam’s letter from Germany.
Hello Jenna!
I hope this note finds you well. How are you enjoying your store-bought eggs?
I shared all the news about your henhouse sale with Annabelle and she asked me to convey her best wishes.
She thinks you should put the money toward a plane flight here.
Ha! I can practically see you shaking your head in wonder.
I understand how you feel. My Annabelle keeps forgetting about you not being able to get on an airplane.
If your circumstances ever change, however, please keep us first on your list.
So . . . are you ready to hear about the latest happenings at the office?
Jenna giggled as Liam continued his chatty, breezy note, filling her in on gossipy coworkers, a problem he’d had with one of his clients, and finally a story about their son Mark, who was in high school.
When she folded the note again, Jenna realized that she was smiling.
She wasn’t surprised. Liam’s letters from Germany usually did inspire good feelings.
He seemed like such a kind man, and his dear, ditzy Annabelle reminded her in many ways of Jimmy.
Jimmy had never been ditzy, but he did seem to be blissfully ignorant of the things that were out of his comfort zone.
He never completely understood how Jenna could be friends with someone who she would likely never meet in person.
She supposed he had a point, but it didn’t matter to her. She enjoyed Liam’s letters tremendously and felt as if they were good friends. Just because their friendship was an untraditional one didn’t mean it was wrong.
She’d just started to open the second letter when she heard two raps at her door.
Was Nelson already paying her a call? Excited about the possibility, she hurried to the door and opened it up.
And saw Doreen Beachy standing on her front stoop with a jar of peanut butter fluff in one hand and a rather weighty-looking purse in the other.
“Hi there, Jenna,” she said in a bright tone. “I was hoping you’d answer. Now I can give you this. Here.” She thrust the jar of peanut butter fluff into Jenna’s hands.
Jenna clutched it to her chest so she wouldn’t drop it.
Doreen beamed. “I’m so glad it’s in your hands and out of mine. I’ve been carrying around this stuff for two days.”
Jenna wasn’t sure which was odder, Doreen showing up or her presentation of the large jar of fluff. As one second passed into two, she remembered her voice. “Danke?”
Doreen laughed heartily. It made the tails of her kapp swing with motion. “You have every right to be confused about my gift, but don’t worry. I didn’t make it. I bought it at Wolf’s.”
“The market?” For some reason, she felt as if she was a beat behind.
“None other,” Doreen said as she walked right inside and closed the door behind her. “I hope you won’t mind if I come in for a few minutes.”
“Nee. I mean, not at all.”
“Danke. I promise I won’t stay long.”
Feeling as if she was a guest in her own house, Jenna followed Doreen into the living room. As she stood beside the little desk where she’d been sitting, the space looked stark and empty. Kind of how her heart had been for the last year and a half.
Doreen seemed to take in everything that Jenna was experiencing within a few scant minutes. She didn’t sit down. “When was the last time you relaxed, dear? When was the last time you sat down on this couch and put your feet up?”
Her feet up? “I don’t know,” Jenna admitted before the memory returned.
“It was the last time my in-laws came over. It was Katie’s birthday.
” She actually hadn’t taken off her shoes and propped her feet on the edge of the coffee table until their buggy was out of sight. But there was no need to share that.
“She turned five, I think?”
“Jah.” She was surprised that Doreen knew such a thing.
The woman lived on her own so far out that she joined several different church districts throughout the year for services.
It was all very irregular, but Doreen seemed to be the type of person who never arrived empty-handed and always had a smile for other people. She was well-liked.
They’d certainly never been close, though.
The woman’s startling hazel eyes darted her way. “Would you mind if I suggested we visit in your kitchen after all? It’s your choice, of course, but I’ve always considered kitchen visits to be the coziest.”
“Nee, I wouldn’t mind.” She led the way into the kitchen, mentally thanking herself for wiping the counters after she’d finished washing the morning dishes. “The kettle is warm. I could make some coffee. Or perhaps you’d rather have tea?”
“Kaffi would be welcome. Even though it’s May, the weather still seems to think winter just passed.”
“Jah. It is chilly out today.” Fussing with the percolator, she emptied the old grounds, added fresh ones, and poured in cool water. When she placed it on the stove, it began to brew. “It will be done in a few moments.”
“I reckon so.” Doreen’s voice gentled. “Have a seat, child. I don’t want to cause you any worries.”
Jenna did as she asked, though she was beginning to feel more than a little impatient. Doreen’s “quick” visit didn’t feel very quick at all. She wished she’d get to the point so she could go back to her letters. “Is there something I might be able to help you with?”
“Perhaps.” After studying Jenna’s face for another moment, Doreen opened her handbag, pulled out a card, and placed it on the table.
Curious, Jenna picked it up and read the inscription.
Amish Widows Club
She looked at Doreen in confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I started this group almost fifteen years ago, dear. It’s comprised of Amish and Mennonite women of all ages and backgrounds.
We meet every so often at each other’s houses or at a mutually agreeable place, such as the back room of a store or in a town library.
When we get together, we foster friendship. ”
“Foster friendship?” It had a nice ring to it, but she wasn’t very interested.
Doreen waved a hand. “Sometimes widows feel pressured to marry again because they are lonely.”
“I don’t want to marry again.” She’d loved Jimmy.
“I understand. But not everyone in a widow’s life understands what we are going through. In our club, you can cry or share frustrations or laugh or be however you would like to be. No one will judge you.” She smiled softly. “I think you would be an excellent addition.”
“Thank you, but I don’t know . . .”
“Oh?”
“Yes. You see . . . I already have friends. And family.” She had her parents and Jimmy’s parents. And Katie. She also had all of her pen pals. And Nelson too. “I am not lonely.”
“I’d like some kaffi now.”
Becoming even more frustrated with her unexpected guest, Jenna stood up, poured two cups of coffee, added a small carton of cream and a jar of sugar to a tray, and carried it all to the table.
With an ease she’d perfected in the six months after Jimmy’s death when she’d had callers almost daily, Jenna placed the cup and saucer, napkin, and teaspoon in front of Doreen and then did the same with her own place setting.
Doreen sipped the coffee. “Goodness. This is a wonderful cup of coffee, dear.”
“Danke.”
“What coffee brand do you use?”
She realized then that she got a package of coffee from Nelson almost once a month. “I’m not sure. A friend gives me a package of coffee from time to time.”
After taking another sip from her cup, Doreen set it on the kitchen table. “Well, next time you get a package, keep the container. I’d love to get some for myself. It is that good.”
“Yes. I mean, I’ll be happy to do that.”
Doreen smiled at her as she finished her cup. Glanced at it longingly.
“May I get you another cup?”
“As much as I’d love one, I better not.” Her eyes lit up. “Next thing you know, I’ll be having to use the restroom. We can’t have that.”
Jenna blinked but said nothing.
Tapping the card with one finger, Doreen added, “My only wish is to bring you comfort and support, dear Jenna. We could all use a little bit more of that, ain’t so?”
“Yes.”
Looking pleased, Doreen stood up. “If you change your mind, flip the card over. It will tell you how to find the next meeting.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Jenna said as politely as she was able as she followed Doreen back to the front door.
Holding the door handle, the older woman looked back at her. “If I approach you next time our paths cross at church, please don’t worry. If I come up to you, I’ll likely only be hoping to get that coffee brand’s name. It really is delicious.”
“I’ll look forward to telling you about it.”
Doreen chuckled as she opened the door. “Wishing you many blessings today, dear Jenna. Oh! And enjoy that peanut butter fluff! Good day!”
“Jah. Um, gut matin.”
But Doreen was already halfway down the front walkway. It was unlikely she’d heard Jenna’s reply.
In fact, she never even looked back. A couple of minutes later, the woman was out of sight.
Relieved to close the door and return to her correspondence, Jenna walked into the living room. Then the kitchen. Except for some new dishes in the sink and a very large jar of fluff decorating the counter, everything was still and silent. Almost empty.
Why, it was almost as if no one had come over at all.
It was all so strange.