Shunned and Dangerous (An Amish Mystery) (5 page)

“O
h, Esther, this footstool is exquisite!” Claire bent over the hand-painted wooden step and marveled at the winter scene. The snow-covered bridge that graced the surface looked so real, she found herself wishing for a sweater and a mug of hot chocolate. “I can’t imagine anyone actually stepping on it.”

Smoothing her slender hand down the sides of her pale blue, white-aproned dress, Esther merely pointed to the next item on the counter. “I made the dolls this time.”

Claire stepped to her right and scooped up two of the dozen faceless Amish dolls into her arms. “You made them?”

“Yah. When she is not painting, Mamm has been busy canning. I saw that we had only two dolls here, so I made these, instead. Do you like?”

Slowly, Claire turned each doll over in her hands, the traditional Amish dress and kapp soliciting a smile from her lips despite the doll’s lack of one. “They’re every bit as good as your mom’s.”

Esther’s eyes widened. “You think so?”

“How could I not?” Swapping the two dolls in her hands for the two still on the table, Claire was pleased to find the attention to detail every bit as good as the first pair. “You do beautiful work, Esther. With
everything
you make for the store.”

Dropping her head ever so slightly, Esther stared down at the floor, her uncharacteristic silence prompting Claire to set the dolls down. “Esther? Is everything okay?”

“I do not want to be ungrateful.”

She drew back. “Ungrateful? You? Why would you say something like that?”

Esther looked up with eyes that glistened. “All I have wanted is to marry Eli. For my father to see him as a good man.”

“Okay . . .”

“Both things have happened,” Esther whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “I should be happy, but I am not.”

Claire felt her mouth gape and rushed to close it for fear her reaction would be the thing that pushed a teetering Esther off the edge. Instead, Claire tucked her hand inside her friend’s arm and led her to the pair of stools on the other side of the counter. For now, the shop was quiet thanks to the lunchtime lull that transferred the tourist traffic to the handful of cafés and quaint eateries along Lighted Way. “Did you and Eli have a fight?”

Esther slapped a hand to her own mouth and shook her head, the muffled effect on her words making Claire lean closer. “No. No. Eli and I, we do not fight. Ever.”

She tried not to look at all of the tasks she needed to do around the shop—the pricing of Martha and Esther’s new items, the changing out of the front window display for the upcoming Thanksgiving season, and the letter to her landlord she dreaded writing—and focused, instead, on the troubled girl seated on the next stool. “Then why aren’t you happy, Esther?”

Dropping her hand into her lap, Esther picked at an imaginary piece of lint rather than answer.

“Esther?” Claire nudged her friend’s chin upward with her forefinger. “Talk to me.”

“I . . . I am eager t-to be Eli’s wife,” Esther stammered, “but I will miss being here . . . with you each day.”

Claire willed herself to remain upbeat, to squelch the like-minded feelings she had been inwardly moping about all morning. Somehow, someway, she and Esther would remain close just as Ben had said. She had to believe that. For Esther and for herself.

“I will still make things for the store, of course,” Esther rushed to add. “But I will not be here to work and to laugh.”

“That makes two of us.” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until she looked up and saw Esther eyeing her curiously.

“Claire?”

“We’ll figure something out, Esther . . . no matter what happens. I promise.” It was a promise she knew she shouldn’t be making, but she couldn’t help herself. The last thing she needed to throw on Esther at that moment was the reality of Heavenly Treasures’ pending demise.

The faintest hint of a smile appeared at the corners of Esther’s mouth. “Perhaps you could come to dinner sometimes. I know Eli would be pleased if you did.”

“Then we can laugh together there, right?”

The smile moved to the young woman’s large hazel eyes, igniting the amber flecks that underscored her kinship with Jakob. “Yah!”

“Then we’ll be okay, Esther.” She took a moment to catch a much-needed breath, the sentiment Ben had shared only hours earlier resurfacing in her heart at just the right time. “We’re friends, Esther. The only thing that can change that is us.”

“Then it is settled. We do not need this shop to be friends.”

“No, we don’t,” Claire rasped.

“You will come to the wedding, yah?”

She pushed the fog of emotion from her throat and smiled at her friend. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“It will be the second Tuesday in December.”

Claire liberated a red marker from the can beside the register and marked the date on the calendar with a big heart. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why a Tuesday? Isn’t that a work day for your community?”

Esther clasped her hands together in her lap and sat up tall. “Wedding season happens after the fall harvest. That is why it does not interfere with work. The reason we marry on Tuesdays and Thursdays is for benches.”

Claire returned the marker to the can and faced Esther once again. “Benches?”

“Yah. Monday and Wednesday is when the benches travel in the bench wagon to the home where the wedding will be. On Saturday they are to travel again for Sunday worship.”

It made sense. Basic, common sense.

With the Amish, there really wasn’t any other way.

“There will be much to do to get ready.”

“How many people will be there?” Claire asked.

“Mamm thinks it will be three hundred.”

This time, she didn’t shut her mouth in time. “Uh . . . three hundred?”

Esther shrugged. “It could be less, it could be more.”

“And Martha will be expected to feed all of those people . . . in your home?”

“Yah. But I will help. My sisters will help. Neighbors, too.”

“Three hundred people eat a lot of food!”

Esther reached into her satchel and retrieved a sheet of folded paper. With careful fingers, the young woman unfolded it and handed it to Claire. “Mamm and I made a list last night.”

“List?” Dropping her gaze from Esther to the paper, Claire gasped at the sheer volume of food. “Thirty-eight chickens for the roast? Thirty-eight loaves of bread for the filling? Four buckets of mashed potatoes? Three-fourths of a bushel of cabbage for coleslaw?” She followed the list with her finger, the enormity of the task facing the Kings on Esther’s wedding day mind-numbing at best. “Twenty-two dozen donuts? Ten pounds of confectioner’s sugar to dip the donuts in? Thirty custard pies?”

“We will be busy,” Esther mused, nodding along with the list Claire continued to narrate aloud. “Only, there is also worry.”

She looked up from the paper and made a face. “If I had to prepare all of this, I’d be worried, too.”

“Not for food. For Dawdy.”

And just like that, Esther’s wedding faded from Claire’s thoughts. She quietly folded the list and handed it back to her friend. “I don’t really know what to say about that, Esther. Is your mom holding up okay?”

Esther slid off the stool and wandered around the counter, her destination obviously unclear. Midway across the shop, though, she turned around. “Mamm does not want to believe her dat could do something like that, but she saw his anger. Dat saw his anger. All saw his anger. Dawdy did not think kindly on Mr. Zook.”

“Was your grandfather ever shunned for that anger?” she asked, curious.

“Yah. But Benjamin always made it right. He calmed Dawdy into seeking forgiveness for his ways. He did this again and again.”

Esther’s words didn’t really come as any big surprise. Ben himself had alluded to a close tie with Jakob’s father, but, still, Claire couldn’t help but cringe at the rippling effect such a bond would have across the investigation. Looking to the father he hadn’t spoken to in sixteen years as a murder suspect would be hard enough on Jakob. Having the man he considered a rival for his father’s respect throughout his childhood playing the role of champion was sure to make things worse.

It was a subject she felt best to keep from Esther. What, exactly, Esther knew about her uncle’s relationship with her grandfather, beyond the excommunication part, she didn’t know. But whatever the case, it wasn’t Claire’s place to fill in blanks or offer opinions. She wasn’t Amish. She didn’t understand all the ins and outs.

But she had to say
something
. Something to keep Esther’s focus where it should be . . .

“I do not know what happened to Harley Zook, Esther. But I do know that Jakob is a fair man. He is not one to rush to judgment. On anyone.”

The door-mounted bell at the front of the shop let them know their alone-time was over. The lunch crowd was slowly heading toward the street and the various stores that lined it, their stomachs satisfied. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Heavenly Treasures . . .”

The shy greeting Claire had come to associate with Esther trailed from her employee’s lips as Jakob stepped into the shop, his shoulders heavy. “Esther,” he said with a slight tip of his head before turning to greet Claire. “How are you feeling this morning? Did you get any sleep?”

More than anything, she wanted to reach out, smooth the worry from the man’s face. But she couldn’t. Not there. Not in front of Esther. Instead, she did the only thing she could. She gave an answer she hoped would alleviate at least some of his tangible anguish. “It took a while. But I did manage to fall asleep.” She swept her hand toward the back of the shop that led to a tiny stockroom, her even tinier office, and the door to the alleyway. “Would you like a cup of coffee? Or maybe a donut? I picked up a half dozen at Ruth’s place this morning and there are still four left.”

He waved off her request, adding a dimple-free smile to his response. “No, thank you, Claire.” Then, standing in the same spot, he cast an uneasy glance in his niece’s direction, as if he was afraid the events of the previous night had set them back from their place of tentative smiles and quick waves.

Esther took in the floor, then Claire. “Did you tell my uncle?”

“Tell your uncle?” she parroted in confusion before the meaning behind her friend’s words grew clear. “Oh! No . . . Things were crazy last night with finding Harley . . .” She shook her head, redirecting the conversation from a path none of them wanted to go down at that moment. “Shall I tell him now?”

Jakob looked from one to the other, his brow furrowed. “Tell me what?”

At Esther’s quick nod, Claire closed the gap between herself and Jakob, the change in tone one she was anxious to share with a man who was in dire need of a little happy news. “Eli has asked for Esther’s hand in marriage.”

The dimples that had, only moments earlier, been missing in action sprang to the surface of Jakob’s cheeks. “And?” he asked Claire while focusing entirely on his niece.

Esther’s answer came by way of the tiniest hop and the shortest, faintest squeal Claire had ever heard. But it was enough. Jakob clapped his hands with pleasure. “Esther, that is wonderful news! Absolutely wonderful! Congratulations! Eli is a lucky, lucky man.”

For a moment, Claire didn’t think Esther was going to say anything, but, in the blink of an eye, Esther’s smile was followed by a whispered thank-you and a split second of heartfelt eye contact between the pair. Then, Esther was gone, disappearing out into the alley as Eli’s horse drew to a stop outside the shop’s side window. Claire watched her go, reveling in the beauty of a moment that had Jakob looking happier than he had in weeks. Yet when she turned back to enjoy the smile for a second time, she found that it had been dulled by the visible mist in his eyes.

“Jakob? What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy that she spoke to you, that she wanted you to know her big news.”

He swiped a hurried hand across his eyes and did his best to re-create the smile that only moments earlier had been so genuine. “I am happy for Esther and for Eli. The love they have for each other is plain as day. For that, I am grateful.”

“Then why am I sensing you’re sad, too?”

Seconds passed before he finally answered, the huskiness of his voice a dead giveaway to the emotion he was fighting to keep in check. “Because of my choice, I will not be invited to share in Esther and Eli’s day.”