CHAPTER 1
A year ago, Mary Katherine wouldn't have imagined she'd behere. Back then, she'd been helping her parents on the familyfarm and hating every minute of it.
Now, she stood at the front window of Stitches in Time, hergrandmother's shop, watching the Englischers moving about onthe sidewalks outside the shop in Paradise. Even on vacation,they rushed about with purpose. She imagined them checkingoff the places they'd visited: Drive by an Amish farmhouse.Check. Buy a quilt and maybe some knitting supplies to trymaking a sweater when I get back home. Check.
She liked the last item. The shop had been busy all morning,but now, as people started getting hungry, they werepatronizing the restaurants that advertised authentic Amishfood and ticking off another item on their vacation checklist.Shoofly pie. Amish pretzels. Chow-chow. Check.
"Don't you worry, they'll be back," Leah, her grandmother,called out.
Smiling, Mary Katherine turned. "I know."
She wandered back to the center of the shop, set up likethe comfortable parlor of an Amish farmhouse. Chairs werearranged in a circle around a quilting frame. Bolts of fabric ofevery color and print imaginable were stacked on shelves onseveral walls, spools of matching threads on another.
And yarn. There were skeins and skeins of the stuff. MaryKatherine loved running her hands over the fluffy fibers, feelingthe textures of cotton and wool and silk. Some of the newyarns made from things like soybeans and corn just didn't feelthe same when you knitted them or wove them into patterns—butsome people made a fuss over them because they weremade of something natural, plant-based, or more sustainable.
Mary Katherine thought it was a little strange to be usingvegetables you ate to make clothes but once she got her handson the yarns, she was impressed. Tourists were, too. They usedterms like "green" and "ecological" and didn't mind spendinga lot of money to buy them. And was it so much different touse vegetables when people had been taking oily, smelly woolfrom sheep and turning it into garments for people—silk fromsilkworms—that sort of thing?
"You have that look on your face again," her grandmothersaid.
"What look?"
"That serious, thoughtful look of yours. Tell me what you'rethinking of."
"Working on my loom this afternoon."
"I figured you had itchy fingers." Her grandmother smiled.
She sighed. "I'm so glad you rescued me from working atthe farm. And Dat not understanding about my weaving."
Leah nodded. "Some people need time to adjust."
Taking one of the chairs that was arranged in a circlearound the quilt her grandmother and Naomi worked on, MaryKatherine propped her chin in her hand, her elbow on the armof the chair. "It'd be a lot easier if I knitted or quilted."
Leah looked at her, obviously suppressing a smile. "Youhave never liked 'easy,' Mary Katherine."
Laughing, she nodded. "You're right."
Looking at Naomi and Anna, her cousins aged twenty andtwenty-three, was like looking into a mirror, thought MaryKatherine. The three of them could have been sisters, notcousins. They had a similar appearance—oval faces, their haircenter-parted and tucked back under snowy white kapps, andslim figures. Naomi and Anna had even chosen dresses of asimilar color, one that reminded Mary Katherine of morningglories. In her rush out the door, Mary Katherine had grabbedthe first available dress and now felt drab and dowdy in thebrown dress she'd chosen.
Yes, they looked much alike, the three of them.
Until Mary Katherine stood. She'd continued growing afterit seemed that everyone else had stopped. Now, at 5'8", she feltlike a skinny beanpole next to her cousins. She felt awkwardnext to the young men she'd gone to school with. Although sheknew it was wrong, there had been times when she'd secretlywished that God had made her petite and pretty like her cousins.And why had he chosen to give her red hair and freckles?Didn't she have enough she didn't like about her looks withoutthat?
Like their looks, their personalities seemed similar onthe surface. The three of them appeared calm and serene—especiallyNaomi. Anna tried to be, but it didn't last long. Shewas too mischievous.
And herself? Serenity seemed hard these days. In the pastseveral years, Mary Katherine had been a little moody butlately it seemed her moods were going up and down like aroad through rolling hills.
"Feeling restless?" Naomi asked, looking at her with concern.Nimbly, she tied a knot, snipped the thread with a scissors,then slid her needle into a pincushion.
Anna looked up from her knitting needles. "Mary Katherinewas born restless."
"I think I'll take a short walk."
"No," Leah said quickly, holding up a hand. "Let's eat first,then you can take a walk. Otherwise you'll come back andcustomers will be here for the afternoon rush and you'll starthelping and go hungry."
Mary Katherine was already mentally out the door, but shenodded her agreement. "You're right, of course."
Leah was a tall, spare woman who didn't appear old enoughto be anyone's grandmother. Her face was smooth and unlined,and there wasn't a trace of gray in her hair, which she wore likeher granddaughters.
"I made your favorite," Leah told Mary Katherine.
"Fried chicken? You made fried chicken? When did youhave time to do that?"
Nodding, Leah tucked away her sewing supplies, and stood."Before we came to work this morning. It didn't take long." Sheturned to Naomi. "And I made your favorite."
Naomi had been picking up stray strands of yarn from thewood floor. She looked up, her eyes bright. "Macaroni andcheese?"
"Oatmeal and raisin cookies?" Anna wanted to know. Whenher grandmother nodded, Anna set down her knitting needlesand stood. "Just how early did you get up? Are you havingtrouble sleeping?"
"No earlier than usual," Leah replied cheerfully. "I madethe macaroni and cheese and the cookies last night. But I don'tneed as much sleep as some other people I know."
"Can you blame me for sleeping in a little later?" MaryKatherine asked. "After all of those years of helping with farmchores? Besides, I was working on a design last night."
"Tell us all about it while we eat," Naomi said, glancing atthe clock. "We won't have long before customers start comingin again."
"I worry about Grandmother," Anna whispered to MaryKatherine as they walked to the back room. "She does toomuch."
"She's always been like this."
"Yes, but she's getting older."
"Shh, don't be saying that around her!"
Leah turned. "Did somebody say something?"
"Anna said she's hungry," Mary Katherine said quickly."And wondering how you picked a favorite when everythingyou make is her favorite."
Anna poked Mary Katherine in the ribs but everyonelaughed because it was true. What was amazing was that nomatter how much Anna ate, she never gained weight.
Nodding, Leah continued toward the back room. "We'llhave it on the table in no time."
Anna grabbed Mary Katherine's arm, stopping her. "Shameon you," she hissed. "You know it's wrong to lie." Then sheshook her head. "What am I saying? You've done so muchworse!"
"Me? I have not! I can't imagine what you're talking about."
Turning so that her grandmother wouldn't see, Anna liftedher fingers to her lips and mimed smoking a cigarette.
Mary Katherine blushed. "You've been spying on me."
"Food's ready!" Leah called.
"Don't you dare tell her!" Mary Katherine whispered.
Anna's eyes danced. "What will you give me if I don't?"
She stared at her cousin. "I don't have anything—"
"Your afternoon off," Anna said suddenly. "That's what I'lltake in trade."
Before she could respond, Anna hurried into the backroom. Exasperated, Mary Katherine could do nothing but followher.
The minute they finished eating, Mary Katherine jumpedup and hurried over to wash her dishes. "I'll be right back," shepromised, tying her bonnet on the run as she left the store.
Winter's chill was in the air. She shivered a little but didn'twant to go back for her shawl. She shrugged. Once she gotmoving, she'd be warm enough.
She felt the curious stares as if she were being touched.
But that was okay. Mary Katherine was doing a lot of staringof her own. She had a great deal of curiosity about theEnglisch and didn't mind admitting it.
She just hoped that her grandmother didn't know howmuch she'd thought about becoming one of them, of not beingbaptized into the Amish church.
As one of the tourists walked past, a pretty woman abouther own age, Mary Katherine wondered what it felt like beingcovered in so little clothing. She suspected she'd feel half-nakedin that dress she'd heard called a sundress. Althoughsome of the tourists looked surprised when she and her cousinswore bright colors, the fact was that the Ordnung certainlydidn't mandate black dresses.
Color had always been part of Mary Katherine's world.She'd loved all the shades of blue because they reminded herof the big blue bowl of the sky. Her father had complained thatshe didn't get her chores done in a timely manner because shewas always walking around ... noticing. She noticed everythingaround her, absorbed the colors and textures, and spenthours using them in her designs that didn't look like the quiltsand crafts other Amish women created.
She paused at the display window of Stitches in Time. Awedding ring quilt that Naomi had sewn was draped over aquilt rack. Anna had knitted several darling little cupcakehats for babies to protect their heads and ears from the cold.And there was her own woven throw made of many differentfibers and textures and colors of burnt orange, gold, brown,and green. All echoed the theme of the colder seasons, of theweddings that would come after summer harvests.
And all were silent testament to Leah's belief in the creativityof her granddaughters, thought Mary Katherine with asmile. The shop featured the traditional crafts tourists mightexpect but also the new directions the cousins came up with.
It was the best of both worlds Mary Katherine said to herselfas she ventured out into the throng of tourists lining thesidewalks.
* * *Jacob saw Mary Katherine exit her grandmother's shop. Histiming was perfect because he'd heard from a secret sourcewhat time they took a break to eat at the shop during the day.
He watched her stop to gaze at the display window and shesmiled—the smile that had attracted him to her. Oh, she waspretty with those big blue eyes and soft skin with a blush ofrose over her cheekbones. But her smile.
She hadn't always smiled like that. He started noticing itjust a few months ago, after the shop had opened. It was as ifshe'd come to life. He'd passed by the shop one day a coupleof weeks ago and stopped to glance inside, and he'd seen herworking at her loom, a look of absorption on her face, a quietsmile on her lips.
Something had moved in his chest then, a feeling he hadn'thad before. He'd resolved to figure this out.
He hadn't been in a rush to marry. It had been enough totake over the family farm, to make sure he didn't undo all thehard work that his daed had done to make it thrive. He didn'tfeel pride that he'd continued its success. After all, Plain peoplefelt hochmut was wrong. In school, they had often practicedwriting the proverb, "Der Hochmut kummt vor dem Fall." Pridegoeth before the fall.
But the farm, its continuity, its legacy for the family hewanted one day ... that was important to him. To have thatfamily, he knew he'd have to find a fraa. It was important tofind the right one. After all, Plain people married for life. Sohe'd looked around but he had taken his time. He likened theprocess to a crop—you prepared the ground, planted the rightseed, nurtured it, asked God's blessing, and then harvested atthe right moment.
Such things took time.
Sometimes they even took perseverance. She had turnedhim down when he'd approached her and asked her out.
He decided not to let that discourage him.
She turned from the window and began walking down thesidewalk toward him. Look at her, he thought, walking withthat bounce to her step. Look at the way she glanced around,taking in everything with such animation, such curiosity.
He waited for some sign of recognition, but she hadn't seenhim yet. When they'd attended school, their teacher had oftengently chided her for staring out the classroom window ordoodling designs on a scrap of paper for the weaving sheloved.
Mary Katherine moved through the sea of Englisch touristson the sidewalk that parted for her when she walked as thewaters had for Moses. He watched how they glanced at her theway she did them.
It was a mutual curiosity at its best.
He walked toward her, and when she stopped and blinked,he grinned.
"Jacob! What are you doing here?"
"You make it sound like I never come to town."
"I don't remember ever seeing you do it."
"I needed some supplies, and things are slower now withthe harvest in. Have you eaten?" He'd found out from Annawhen they took their noontime break, but he figured it was agood conversational device.
"Yes. We ate a little early at the shop."
He thought about that. Maybe he should have planned better."I see. Well, how about having supper with me tonight?"
"Did you come all the way into town to ask me out?"
Jacob drew himself up. "Yes."
"But I've told you before—"
"That you're not interested in going out."
"Yes."
"But I haven't heard of you going out with anyone else."
She stared at him, oblivious of the people who streamedaround them on the sidewalk. "Who did you ask?"
Her direct stare was unnerving. His collar felt tight, but heknew if he pulled it away from his neck he'd just appear guilty."I'd have heard."
"I'm not interested in dating, Jacob."
When she started past him, he put out his hand to stop her.She looked down at his hand on her arm and then met hisgaze. "Is it you're not interested in dating or you're not interestedin dating me?"
Her lips quirked. "I'm not interested in dating. It's notyou."
"I see."
She began walking again.
"Do you mind if I walk with you?"
"Schur." She glanced at him. "Can you keep up?"
He found himself grinning. She was different from otheryoung women he knew, more spirited and independent.
"Where are we going?"
She shrugged. "Nowhere in particular. I just needed to getout and get some fresh air."
Stopping at a shop window, she studied its display of touristsouvenirs. "Did you ever think about not staying here? InParadise?"
"Not stay here? Where would you go?"
She turned to look at him and shrugged. "I don't know. It'sa big world out there."
Jacob felt a chill race up his spine. "You can't mean it," hesaid slowly. "You belong here."
"Do I?" she asked. Pensive, she stared at the people passing."Sometimes I'm not sure where I belong."
He took her shoulders and turned her to face the shop window."This is where you belong," he told her.
She looked at the image of herself reflected in the glassas he directed. He liked the way they looked together in thereflection. She was a fine Amish woman, with a quiet beautyhe'd admired for some time. He'd known her in school and,of course, they'd attended Sunday services and singings andsuch through the years. He hadn't been in a rush to get married,and he'd noticed she hadn't been, either. Both of themhad been working hard, he at his farm, she in the shop she andher grandmother and cousins owned.
He began noticing her shortly after the shop opened forbusiness. There was a different air about her. She seemed moreconfident, happier than she'd been before.
He reminded himself that she'd said she didn't date.
So why, he asked himself, was he trying again? Taking adeep breath, he turned to her. "Mary Katherine—"
"Jacob!" a man called.
He turned and saw a man striding toward him, a newcomerto the Plain community.
Though the man hailed him, his attention was clearly onMary Katherine. He held out his hand. "Daniel Kurtz," he said."Remember me?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Jacob saw Mary Katherine turnto the man and eye him with interest.
"You live in Florida now."
"I do." He studied the shop. "So, this is yours?"
"My grandmother's. My cousins and I help her."
Daniel nodded. "Very enterprising." He glanced around. "Isthis the size of crowd you get this time of year?"
Mary Katherine nodded. "After-Christmas sales bring themout. But business slows down while people eat lunch."
"I came into town to pick up a few things and I'm hungry.Have you two eaten?"
"I asked Mary Katherine but—"
"We'll join you," she said quickly.
Jacob stared at her. But the two of them were already walkingaway. With an unexplained feeling of dread washing overhim, he followed them.
