The Amish Widow's New Love. Liz Tolsma
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she couldn’t rely on him for help and comfort. But her chest ached. Some nights, alone in her room, she cried herself to sleep. How much lonelier it would be when she moved to the dawdi haus. “Come in. We can start sorting through the papers.”
He grabbed the box from his buggy and followed her into the house. Mamm took Joseph and Naomi and Elam settled at the table, the large box between them.
He cleared his throat, and she gazed at him. An uneven red flush mottled his neck. “First of all, I want to apologize for the other day.”
“You...you do?” Why did her stomach dip the way it did?
“Ja. I shouldn’t have dismissed your ideas the way I did. That was inconsiderate of me. You make a gut point. This is an Amish auction, not an Englisch one. All the other items we offer come from our communities. We should forget the shaved ice truck.”
“Having a hard time finding a vendor?” She flashed him a playful grin.
The red creeped into his cheeks. “Well, now that you mention it.” He chuckled, his coloring returning to normal. “I’m not incapable of seeing reason. You were right. I was wrong.”
Warmth seeped into her chest. The old Elam rarely admitted his mistakes. “Denki for your apology. Offering a cold treat on a warm day was a nice thought. Is there an alternative to the shaved ice?”
Elam stroked his clean-shaven cheek. “Your family makes the best ice cream I’ve ever had. Just vanilla, but there is a secret ingredient in there, say not?”
“There is, but you want to make ice cream? How are we going have enough for all those people?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Multiple machines hooked up to generators?”
He grinned, and her arms broke out in gooseflesh. She focused on the pencil in her hand.
“That’s a great idea. Maybe someone in the district has a large-capacity churn.”
“I’ll ask around at the church service next week.”
For a long while, they sorted through the papers, Naomi jotting notes on a yellow legal pad, filling several pages with people they needed to contact, payments that had to be made and ideas they had.
She could almost close her eyes and imagine that the past three years hadn’t happened. Almost. His deep voice washed over her and lulled her.
Elam’s words broke into her into thoughts. “I’d like to make some furniture pieces for the auction. I was hoping your daed would let me use his equipment. I have an Englisch friend who has a workshop in his garage, but I want to construct them the true Amish way.”
If Daed allowed Elam to work here, she would run into him every day, just as she had when he was Daed’s employee. Did her hands tremble because of dread or excitement? She had to say something to him, but what? Surely not that she was happy he’d be so close. “Well, I hope the meeting with him goes well. I think we’ve reached the end of the stuff in the box. I should feed Joseph before he fusses.”
Elam rose and filed the papers away. “And what about the newspapers?”
She locked her knees to keep them from knocking together. “Go ahead and contact the reporters. I’ll speak to them.”
“I have the letters ready to put in the mail. Would you like to read them first?”
“Nein. Just send them.” Before she changed her mind.
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