Accidentally Amish (19 page)

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Authors: Olivia Newport

BOOK: Accidentally Amish
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“It’s very close to Northkill,” Verona said. “We would be near other Amish families.”

Jakob nodded. “The Siebers are on Irish Creek. They came last year.”

“I remember them,” Verona said. “I always liked Mrs. Sieber.”

“Perhaps someday we will have a real congregation,” Jakob said. “Even a bishop.” He paused. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I hate to go off into the wilderness and leave you still in bed.”

“I won’t be in bed,” Verona said quickly. “I’m so much better. Besides, we both know you have to go.”

“I don’t have to go right now with Hans.”

“But you should. It’s what you’ve planned all along.”

“Winter is coming.”

“All the more reason to go soon. Choose your land and be ready. When the papers come, you can engage a surveyor right away.”

“And we pray that winter holds off long enough to get the survey done. Then we could move at the first spring thaw.”

“So we will spend the winter here, then.” Verona looked around the room. “I will make a home for us.”

“When you are well, I will look for work,” Jakob said. “Surely Philadelphia has tanyards.”

“Not an Amish tanyard. Would you work for an outsider?” Verona asked.

“Will I have a choice? I must provide for my family. I’m only interested in honest work.”

“Any tanner would be blessed to have you.”

Jakob began to believe he could leave Verona safely. If she napped with the baby, she managed to be wakeful for most of the day. The Penn brothers approved his application for a land grant. By the time the papers were complete, she had organized the cooking and laid in food supplies. He and Christian chose a sure-footed horse with a mellow temperament and loaded leather satchels with bedding, warm clothing, and food. Hans Zimmerman did the same. Jakob and Hans consulted their maps and planned their foray into the thick forest northwest of Philadelphia.

They followed the Schuykill River as it meandered generally north, and turned west in the shadow of the Blue Mountains. When they could, they rode the horses. When the path grew steep or hidden, they walked laboriously. Hans constantly checked his compass, and in the end they did find Northkill Creek and several Amish families who had taken this sojourn the previous year. The Detweiler and Sieber families lived in cabins with stone chimneys and the evidence that their gardens had yielded well that year and stocked the root cellar.

When Hans and Jakob arrived, Mrs. Sieber did not hesitate to twist the neck of one of the chickens strutting in back of the house and prepare it for the pot. The eldest Sieber boy went to a makeshift smokehouse and came back with a skinned rabbit and squirrel. Jakob winced slightly at the offering, supposing the families did not enjoy meat every day, much less three varieties. He spied two rifles leaning up against the Sieber fireplace.

“Is the hunting good?” he asked.

“The boys do pretty well with Melchior Detweiler’s boys,” Sieber said. “They take down the occasional deer or elk, which feeds us a long time. Even a bear now and then. And they seem to get all the rabbit, grouse, and turkey we could ask for.”

Jakob nodded, encouraged. He would have to teach Christian to hunt. First, he would need a gun.

By noon the following day, Jakob stood on land at the far west end of Irish Creek and knew he wanted to own it. He leaned against a black oak, feeling drenched in good fortune.

“Let’s use this oak to mark our land,” Hans said. “Our farms will join at this tree. Our families will join here as well.”

Jakob nodded, smiling. Verona would love this view. The Blue Mountains sloped on the western horizon over woods that rose thickly from rich soil. They would have all the timber they needed. The creek would provide smooth stones to spark Verona’s pleasure in the fireplace that would someday warm the home they would someday inhabit. A vision of a free life colored the expanse before him with one hint of shadow.

Jakob gestured toward the mountains. “Indian territory is on the other side of that ridge.”

“I know,” Hans answered. “But William Penn took great pains to build friendly relations. He paid the tribes for the land.”

“William Penn has been dead for nearly twenty years. Things change.”

Hans went silent.

Jakob continued, “Considering the threats we left in Switzerland and what we survived on the ship, I don’t intend to lose anybody I love now.”

“We must be careful and watch out for each other.”

Jakob thumped the tree. “This black oak will remind us that this is no time to give way to fear.” He once again scanned the view of his land then pointed toward a small natural clearing close to the creek. “There! Verona will want the house there!”

Eighteen

B
arrett agreed to meet her. Annie had not been sure he would even answer her phone call, but he sounded amicable. Even wistful.

Annie pondered three outfits laid out on her bed. The goal was businesslike but friendly. Warm but firm. Finally, she put on a dark print skirt cut straight with a sassy flair at the hemline and a short-sleeved summer sweater in a shade of blue she knew Barrett was partial to. Her gold chain followed the neckline of the sweater in a perfect parallel curve. She would use a real briefcase today.

Annie closed her eyes, inhaled, then exhaled slowly. “Please, God, help me figure this out.” She wanted to do the right thing—if only she knew what the right thing was.

In the middle of the morning, small clusters of people in business attire dotted the restaurant. In another couple of hours, the lunch crowd would surge through, but for now it was a quiet place to talk. Cutlery clinked occasionally, and voices ebbed and flowed with pleasant laughter and the buzz of getting down to business. Annie just wanted to hear straight from Barrett’s mouth what he wanted out of their partnership. Sitting down together in a public place—without lawyers—might stir enough friendship to come to an agreement without going to court. And she would not have to ruin Barrett’s future.

“I’m meeting a friend,” Annie told the hostess. “His name is Barrett Paige. I don’t see him.”

The hostess checked the note on the seating chart. “Yes, he’s here. He specifically asked for the back room.”

She followed the hostess through the main dining room, breathing in the aroma of omelets and coffee and waffles and bacon.

Something was not right. Annie slowed her steps and sniffed.

Aftershave.

Rick’s aftershave. She had spent enough time close to him to recognize it.

Annie paused at a table and set her briefcase in a chair. “Excuse me,” she said to the hostess. “Would you please tell my friend I’d like to eat out here?”

“It’s no trouble to put you in the back. We’ve already set up.”

“I prefer this spot.” She pulled out a chair and sat down.

The hostess shrugged. “I’ll tell him.”

The scent grew stronger, and a moment later Rick Stebbins stood across from Annie, his fingers splayed on the back of a chair.

“Well, well, Annie Friesen.” He leaned toward her. “Imagine running into you here.”

Annie picked up her briefcase and moved it to her lap. “What are you doing here, Rick?”

“It’s a popular place for business meetings.”

“Barrett told you, didn’t he?”

“Told me what?”

“Don’t play games.” Annie’s pulse pumped harder.

Rick crossed his arms over his chest. “This is a public place. How was I supposed to know you would be here?”

“That’s pretty thin, Rick.” She met his flaunting gaze with a scowl. What had she ever seen in him?

“I just came over to borrow a chair.” He rolled one out from the table and tilted his head toward another table. Two men in suits looked in his direction. “Meeting with new clients.”

“How convenient.”

“I believe you know how to reach me when you’re ready to sign the papers Barrett asked me to prepare.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I think you’ll find your meeting has been canceled.” Rick smiled as he rolled the chair toward the other table.

The hostess reappeared. “I’m sorry, miss. Your party seems to have left.”

So this was how it was going to be.

Rufus looked up and raised an eyebrow. Karl Kramer sauntered from his car toward the motel and casually opened the lobby door. Rufus dipped the brim of his hat about an inch but held his pose in a straight-backed chair.

“I saw your buggy.” Karl’s hands were in the pockets of his blue work pants. “I heard you got some work going here.”

“Yes, Mo asked for some cabinetry.”

“Probably a new desk.” Karl ran one hand along the nicked and notched front edge of the desk. “This one’s been here about a hundred years.”

“Yes, a new desk as well.”

Karl glanced around. “I don’t see tools or a crew.”

“I am drawing up some final plans.” Rufus looked past Karl Kramer to where he had left Dolly and the buggy. The horse seemed unperturbed, and the buggy was upright.

“When do you plan to install?”

“Mr. Kramer, with all due respect, I don’t believe that’s your business,” Rufus said.

“I suppose it takes time to build. Handcrafted and all. You must take great pride in your work.”

“We are humble people.” Rufus spoke politely. “
Demut.
We do not seek pride. I find satisfaction in my craft and hope it reflects the beauty of the Creator.” Where was Mo? She had said she had the original blueprints of the building and dashed off to find them before Rufus could tell her he did not really need them. His own drawings were accurate, checked and measured three times. He just wanted her signature on his final quote. Then he would buy the remaining wood and start crafting cabinets in his workshop.

Karl thumped the desk. “It would be a shame if something happened. After all your hard work, I mean.”

Rufus eyed Karl, his heart beating a little faster. “Why would something happen?”

“You just never know.”

Mo entered the lobby just then and took up her position behind the desk. “You need something, Karl?”

“Just dropped in to chat with Rufus here.”

“Rufus is busy.” She held the blueprints out toward Rufus. “I’m ready to look at your numbers now.”

Karl spoke. “Let me have a look at the blueprints. I can have a bid for you by the end of the day. We will install next week.”

“Rufus and I have already come to an agreement, Karl. If you’re trying to drum up business, this is the wrong place.”

“Perhaps I’ll drop by again after the work is done.” Karl ambled toward the door.

Mo and Rufus said nothing more until Karl was out of the building.

“Is he threatening you?” Mo asked sharply.

“Not directly.”

“Everybody in town knows Karl Kramer is gunning for you.

I’ll call the police.”

“No,” Rufus said. “That is not the way to solve our differences.”

“He’d better not step foot in my motel ever again.”

Annie sat in her office with the door closed, the phone in her hand. Lee Solano was on speed dial. Number nine.

On the phone just a few hours ago, Barrett sounded sincere. He wanted to talk. He didn’t want to go to court. The whole mess was out of hand.

And now this.

It was all show. Barrett must have called Rick as soon as he hung up. Or perhaps Rick was in the room and heard the whole conversation. They probably had a good laugh.

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