Thanksgiving In Hollybrook (Hollybrook Holiday Amish Romance) Read online

  “Jah. It’s fine.”

  “Now, if you had a phone…” he teased.

  “I know. I know,” she replied, her voice light. “And that isn’t going to happen.”

  He touched her shoulder. “We both know that.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll get busy.”

  He smiled. “So will I. The orders don’t cook themselves.”

  “Nee, they don’t.”

  “I may need to hire a part-time cook over the next few weeks. Do we have the money for it?”

  He was teasing again. Even though she kept the books, he knew full well what their bottom line was. He knew where every penny went, so of course, he knew they had the money.

  “Hmm.” She pretended to consider it. “I’m not sure you do. You may have to simply work harder. Cut back some.”

  He laughed and went back into the kitchen. She walked to the tiny office located right inside the kitchen. She liked working so close to the cook stoves. The different aromas from all the orders were tantalizing and enjoyable. Sometimes, Bill brought in a sample of something for her to try, and it was always delicious. He was a great cook, as evidenced by his loyal clientele.

  Now, she pulled her chair back and sat down. She took the ledgers from the side drawer of the desk and opened them. Bill had been after her to use the computer, but so far, she had resisted. She knew he was accommodating her old-fashioned way of doing things and that no one else in town kept books like she did anymore. She also knew that the day was coming when she’d either have to learn the computer or quit.

  She didn’t want to quit.

  She liked her job, and she needed the money.

  But what would the bishop say if he got wind of her learning the computer? There were a few Amish in their district who used computers with their businesses—they’d gotten special permission. But this wasn’t her business; it was her job. Would that be the same thing?

  She wasn’t sure, and for some reason, she was hesitant to find out. But in truth, she knew the reason she kept putting it off. What if the bishop denied her permission? What if he told her to quit and find another job? Then, she’d be forced to obey.

  She sighed. Martha was right. Her job had become like a secret, even though it wasn’t. She needed to be more forthcoming with the people in her district. She needed to be more open, more communicative.

  But the plain truth was—she didn’t want to.

  * * *

  Noah King helped load the five sacks of chicken feed into the back of his pony cart. Then, he went back inside the Feed & Supply to pay Eliza Troyer, who ran the cash register. She and her husband owned the store and practically lived there. He wondered when they were ever at their house.

  “Did you get it loaded?” Eliza asked him, smoothing her hands down her ample bosom.

  “It’s all loaded,” he said. “Can you add the cost to my account?”

  She pulled a large ledger from below the register. “Glad to.”

  “Thank you, Eliza.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You courting anyone, Noah?”

  He balked. Eliza was a persistent busy-body, but this question was nervy even for her.

  She clucked her tongue. “Ach, I know it ain’t something we discuss freely, Noah, but if you aren’t seeing somebody, I’ve got a lovely niece in Linder Creek who’s courting age.”

  He was still so stunned, he didn’t know how to respond, but he did feel his cheeks go hot.

  She laughed. “I see I’ve embarrassed you. Now listen to me, Noah King. Your mamm ain’t in these parts, I know. So, she ain’t here to see to things…”

  See to things? Since when did mothers interfere with the girls their sons were courting?

  “…so I don’t mind stepping in.” Eliza leaned forward. “My niece will be coming soon for an extended visit. Her name’s Doris, and she’s a lovely girl.”

  “I-I’m sure she is,” Noah said, his face still hot. Truth was, he had no interest in Eliza Troyer’s niece—even sight unseen. He was smitten with someone else. Someone lovely and kind and right there in Hollybrook. His heart raced even at the thought of Leora Fisher. Not that she’d given him an ounce of encouragement. In fact, she had no idea how smitten he was. He needed to do something about that, but in truth, Leora could sometimes be a bit unapproachable.

  He put it down to shyness. Maybe. Also, Leora had already suffered plenty in her life—what with her husband dying so young and her not having any kinfolk nearby to help her out or even to keep her company.

  Maybe he should stop over at her house later that day. Just to say hello and see how she was doing. The very thought made him sweat. Men didn’t just stop by a widow’s home without a good excuse, and he hardly had one. His mind spun; what excuse could he come up with?

  “Noah?” Eliza asked, and her voice homed in like a drill. “You listening to me?”

  He gave a start. “Jah. Jah, of course, I’m listening.”

  “Well, mind my words. She’ll be here next week, and I’ll be asking you over for supper.”

  “Uh, that’s nice, Eliza. I-I need to be going.”

  She flicked her hand in a gesture of good-bye. “Just mind my words,” she repeated while he beat a hasty retreat.

  Once back outside in the frigid air, he pulled up the collar of his coat. Leora often rode her bicycle to wherever she was going. That had to be mighty uncomfortable in this weather. And when there was ice, it would be downright dangerous. Surely, she couldn’t ride it in the ice.

  And there was his excuse. It was a bit of a stretch, and likely she’d never agree to it, but couldn’t he offer to take her around in his buggy whenever she needed to go somewhere? He frowned. No, she’d never agree to it. She’d never agree to being seen in public with him when they weren’t a couple.

  But he could offer. It would be gentlemanly of him. And it would give him an excuse to stop by that very day. Pleased with himself now, he climbed into his cart and snapped the reins. Flicker immediately got underway, moving into a trot without much encouragement from him.

  “Gut girl,” he called out, his mind busy with the details of his plan.

  Chapter Three

  Leora was pulling on her mittens, when Bill showed up in the doorway to her office.

  “Please tell me you didn’t ride your bike in today,” he said.

  She didn’t answer, just smiled.

  “Oh man, Leora, it’s freezing outside. If you stay a bit longer, I can take you home. I’ll throw your bike in the back of my pick-up.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m almost ready to leave, and I’m well-bundled. No reason to fret.”

  “Fret?” he repeated. “And why shouldn’t I fret? My brilliant bookkeeper is about to embark on a mile or more journey on a bike in the middle of winter weather. I’ve told you a hundred times, Leora, that we can figure something else out.”

  She pulled on her second mitten. “Not necessary,” she said again.

  “I think it is.” He stepped closer and tweaked the end of her scarf. “I don’t want you getting sick on me, now do I?”

  She laughed. “I never get sick.”

  “Then I don’t want you taking a tumble and being laid up.”

  She shook her head, still laughing. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m telling you, I’m perfectly fine.”

  He turned and hollered at his sister. “I need to leave for a while.”

  Donna scurried over. “How’s that possible?” she asked, wiping her hands down her apron. “Who’ll cook?”

  “Can’t you take over the griddle for an hour? The two girls can handle the floor.”

  Donna gave him a dirty look. “Bill, I can’t cook like you.”

  “Sure, you can,” he said. “You’ve done it before.”

  “And I didn’t like it.”

  Leora stepped forward. “There’s no call for him to leave,” she told Donna. “I’ll see you in two days.”

  “I’m taking you home,” Bill insisted. He turned to his s
ister. “Less than an hour, then.”

  Donna groaned. “Fine. But if you take longer than an hour, I’m closing the diner.”

  He laughed. “As if you’d do that. Come on, Leora. This won’t take long.”

  Leora didn’t follow at first. She didn’t want him to take her home. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She did enjoy riding in his truck with him, and she did enjoy his company. But this was silly. She rode her bike in the winter months all the time, and it wasn’t slick out today. She’d be fine. Cold, but fine.

  “Leora,” he said, and her name on his lips was so melodious, so earnest, that she weakened.

  “Oh, go on,” Donna said grumpily. “You know he won’t give up till he has his way. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Now, hurry up so he can get back.”

  Still reluctant, she followed Bill out the back door of the restaurant to where his truck was parked.

  “You go ahead and get in,” he told her. “I’ll run around to the front of the diner and grab your bike.”

  Dutifully, Leora climbed into his truck and secured her seat belt. She sincerely hoped no one would see her riding in his truck. Not that it would have been expressly forbidden, but tongues would wag. And they’d wagged enough as far as she was concerned.

  In minutes, she watched him through the back window as he hoisted her bicycle into the bed of the truck. Then he ran around and climbed in, a whoosh of cold air following him inside.

  “I’ll get the heat on pronto,” he said, starting the engine. He rubbed his hands together swiftly. “It’s freezing in here.”

  “It’s fine,” she said.

  “You’d say that if it were twenty below.”

  She giggled. “Nee, I wouldn’t.”

  He put the truck in gear and backed out of the parking spot and into the back alley. From there, he pulled onto the main road.

  “So, you heat with wood?”

  She nodded. “I have a wonderful gut warming stove. And my house is small. Well, you’ve seen my house from the outside.”

  “I have. Do you chop the wood yourself?”

  “Sometimes. Usually, I have the neighbor boy do it for me.”

  “Good.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Goodness, but you must think me helpless. I’m perfectly capable of chopping wood. In fact, I bet I can chop it better than you can.”

  He laughed outright at that. “You might be right, at that. But someday, I’ll chop your wood for you, and then you can make a true assessment.”

  Chop her wood for her? Her face warmed. That would be completely inappropriate. What if someone came by and saw an Englisch man chopping her wood?

  He glanced at her and seemed to sense he’d said something wrong. “Uh, if you’d let me, that is,” he added.

  She only smiled, not wanting to get into it with him. He was a stubborn man, and she certainly didn’t want to ignite his stubbornness regarding chopping her wood.

  They passed more than one buggy along the way to her house. When they were nearly there, she noted a pony cart pulling into her drive right ahead of them. Why, it was Noah King. She’d not had much contact with him over the years. She knew him, of course, and thought him to be a nice man, but that was all. What in the world was he doing there?

  Filled with curiosity, Leora leaned forward, but then she wanted to scrunch down and hide herself. What would Noah King say to her being brought home by Bill Jeffreys?

  Nothing, she thought sternly. He would say nothing.

  “You have company,” Bill said. “Were you expecting someone?”

  “Nee. It’s Noah King. I have no idea what he wants.” Why did she feel like she had to justify Noah’s presence to Bill? It was none of his business. But that was what she was doing.

  “I’ll pull in around him,” Bill said. “I don’t want to spook his horse.”

  “There’s room,” she said, appreciating his sensitivity. Too many Englischers had no concept of what might spook a horse.

  He pulled the truck to a stop at the side of her house. She immediately got out and so did he. He hurriedly took her bike out of the truck bed and rolled it to her porch steps where he leaned it against the railing.

  She went over to Noah, who was eyeing Bill.

  “Hello, Noah,” she said. “What brings you around?”

  Before Noah had time to answer, Bill came forward with his hand outstretched. “Hello. I’m Bill Jeffreys. Leora and I work together.”

  They shook hands, and Leora couldn’t help but notice how Noah’s gaze intensified.

  “Gut to meet you,” he said.

  “Same here. Well, I’ll be off,” Bill told Leora. “I’ll see you in two days, then. And don’t be surprised if you get another ride home.”

  With that, he was back in his truck and pulling out of the drive. She watched him go, knowing Noah was doing the same. And then she turned back to him.

  “Hello again,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  Noah seemed flustered. He licked his lips and frowned. Leora waited. This was odd, indeed. He appeared to have no idea why he was there, and she had the distinct impression he was annoyed. But why?

  Was he judging her because an Englischer had driven her home? Now she was becoming annoyed, too. She drew herself up to her full height.

  “Noah? What is it you wanted?” she asked, her voice clipped.

  He was clearly trying to decide what to say, and her annoyance faded, replaced once again with curiosity.

  “I was, uh, worried,” he began, looking around as if seeking someone to help him state his purpose. “It’s so cold, and I know you have no buggy.”

  “It’s just as cold in a buggy as on a bike,” she said, trying to ease his nervousness now. Of course, what she said wasn’t true at all. A buggy was much warmer, particularly if the owner had a propane heater inside.

  He gave her a skeptical look. “You know that ain’t so, Leora.” But he was smiling now, his edginess eased.

  “Maybe not, but you needn’t worry about me.” Goodness, was everyone in Hollybrook worried about her being cold?

  “I wanted to offer you my services,” he went on. “I am more than glad to take you anywhere you need to go while the weather is so cold.”

  She stared at him, completely stunned. She could have guessed for a long time and not come up with this as the reason he would stop by.

  “That’s right kind of you,” she said, not wanting to be rude, but certainly unwilling for him to be her personal chauffeur service.

  “Just being practical,” he muttered as if trying to downplay his offer.

  “I will keep that in mind.”

  “Do you need a ride to the preaching service this Sunday? Or somewhere else before that? Sounds like you’re going back to work in two days. Bill Jeffreys indicated as much.”

  She carefully listened to his tone, trying to discern whether he approved of her working with Bill Jeffreys or not. She didn’t hear any censure in his words, which was interesting. That certainly wasn’t the case with some of the men in their district.

  “He owns Jeffreys Diner, ain’t so?” Noah continued.

  “Jah.”

  “I’ve been in there once, but I never saw you.”

  “I work in the back. With their books.”

  “With their books?”

  “I am an accountant of sorts. Without the official title, of course.”

  “You do all their ciphering?”

  “I do.”

  He blinked as if digesting this news.

  “You thought I was a waitress?”

  He nodded sheepishly. “I guess I was wrong.”

  “I guess you were.”

  He studied her then, and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze. Now was the moment, she thought. Now was the time when he’d disapprove of her job. But he said nothing, only nodded.

  “I s’pose I better be getting along,” he told her. “You’ll remember, won’t you? I
’m happy to take you wherever you need to go.”

  “Thank you, Noah. Like I said, it’s right kind of you to offer.”

  He tilted his head in a gesture of farewell and snapped the reins on his horse’s rump. He rolled out of the drive, and Leora went inside, leaning against the back of her closed door. What was that really about? she wondered. He’d never shown any interest in her before.

  Chapter Four

  Noah let out a sigh of frustration when he turned onto the main road. That had been a total disaster. He had seen the way she stared at him with unbridled curiosity. She wanted to know why he was suddenly interested in her goings about. And then, the timing. Could it have been more awkward?

  That Jeffreys fellow was good-looking. Was Leora smitten with him? The very thought twisted up his throat. The man was Englisch. Surely, she wouldn’t have fallen for an Englisch fellow, would she? No. No. That couldn’t be right.

  But Jeffreys sure had looked interested in her. Noah had seen the glimmer in his eyes, and he recognized it—for he feared he had the same look in his own eyes. And now that Jeffreys fellow would know of his interest in Leora. Would he step up his game?

  Ach, but this wasn’t expected.

  He’d hoped to go over to Leora’s place, offer her a kindness, paving the way for future encounters. He knew Leora’s reputation in the district. She was stand-offish, private, not eager to accept help. Since her husband died a year or so ago, she’d sold her farm, moved into that small rental house and begun working in town. No one knew much about what she did, including him.

  But working with finances? That was hardly a woman’s normal position, was it? Not in their district, it wasn’t. Now that he thought about it, though, he did remember some talk years earlier about how good Leora was with numbers. He hadn’t paid the information much mind, however. But now, upon remembering, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised at her job.

  But did she have to work for the Jeffreys?

  Noah pulled the reins slightly to the right, turning down the road toward his own farm. If he was interested in Leora—and he was—he was going to have to be more intent. More focused.