His New Amish Family. Patricia Davids
with Helen’s aunt, Charlotte Zook, but her home was several miles away, making it impractical to stay there once their business was up and running.
“When is the grand opening?” Isaac asked.
“The dual ovens we want are back-ordered. We can’t set a date until they are paid for and installed.” Mark gave Paul a pointed look. It was a reminder that he needed his money back soon.
Paul winked at his brother. “Mark’s interest isn’t in the new ovens. Sneaking a kiss from his new bride is what keeps him running over there.”
Mark blushed bright red and everyone laughed.
Paul turned to Isaac for an answer. “Can you spare me today? I’m trying to get my own business up and running, too.”
Isaac nodded. “We will do without you. Any idea when you’ll be back?”
“I can’t say for sure.” He opened the door and saw his cousin Joshua and Joshua’s wife, Mary, coming across from the gift shop. Mary carried her infant son balanced on her hip. The happy, chubby boy was trying to catch the ribbon of her kapp with one hand and stuff it in his mouth with little success.
Mary called out, “Guder mariye, Paul. Is Samuel around?”
“Good morning, Mary. He’s inside.”
“Goot, I need to speak to him. Don’t forget about Nicky’s birthday party two weeks from Saturday. You can bring a date if you like.”
“I won’t forget and I won’t bring a date. Meet the family. Bounce the cute baby. That would be a sure way to give a woman the wrong impression,” he called over his shoulder.
“You can’t stay single forever,” Mary shouted after him.
“I can try.” He hurried toward Ralph Hobson’s car. He didn’t want to keep a potentially profitable client waiting.
On the twenty-minute ride, Paul did all the talking as he outlined the details of the auction contract and his responsibilities, including advertising and inventory, sorting the goods and cleaning up after the sale. Hobson listened and didn’t say much.
Paul hoped the man understood what he was agreeing to. “I’ll send you a printed copy of all I’ve told you if you agree to hire me. A handshake will be enough to seal the deal.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever.” The man took one hand off the wheel and held it out.
Paul shook it. He was hired. It was hard to contain his joy and keep the smile off his face.
When Ralph turned into the lane of a neat Amish farmyard, Paul noticed a white car parked off to the side of the drive. Ralph stopped beside it. A middle-aged man in a white cowboy hat got out. He tossed a cigarette butt to the ground and came around to the driver’s side. Ralph rolled down his window.
“Good morning, sir. My name is Jeffrey Jones. Are you the owner of this property?”
“I am,” Ralph said.
“I understand this farm is for sale. I’d like to take a look at the property and maybe make an offer on it.”
Ralph frowned. “Where did you hear it was for sale?”
The man shrugged and smiled. “Word gets around in a small community like this.”
Ralph shook his head. “Your information isn’t quite accurate. There will be a farm auction in the near future.”
“Ah, that’s a risky way to get rid of the place. You should at least hear my offer. You’ve got no guarantee that an auction will top it.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Ralph said. “Keep an eye out for the date of the sale. You might get it for less.”
Mr. Jones stepped back from the vehicle. “Do the mineral rights go with the farmland or are they separate?”
“I’m not selling the mineral rights.”
“Smart man. I imagine leasing those rights to the local coal mine will bring you a tidy sum for many years. My offer for the farm expires when I get in my car. No one is going to want this place except maybe a poor Amish farmer. You’ll have trouble getting a decent price.”
If Ralph sold the land now, Paul wouldn’t get a dime but he had to put his client’s interest before his own. “You should at least hear what the man had to offer.”
“I have my heart set on an auction. Besides, I thought we had a deal. We shook on it.”
Paul grinned. It seemed his new client was an honorable man. “It’s up to you but he is mistaken if he thinks all Amish farmers are poor. You’ll get a fair price at auction. You can put a reserve on it if you want. If the bidding doesn’t reach your set price, it’s a ‘no sale’ and you are free to sell it another way.”
Ralph smiled. “I’m going to hope for a bidding war.”
Mr. Jones appeared more puzzled than disappointed but he got back in his car and drove away.
Paul leaned forward in his seat to get a good look at the farm as they drove up. Both the barn and the house were painted white and appeared in good condition. He made a quick mental appraisal of the equipment he saw, then jotted down numbers in a small notebook he kept in his pocket.
“What is she doing here?” The anger in Ralph’s voice shocked Paul.
He followed Ralph’s line of sight and spied an Amish woman sitting on a suitcase on the front porch of the house. She wore a simple pale blue dress with an apron of matching material and a black cape thrown back over her shoulders. Her wide-brimmed black traveling bonnet hid her hair. She looked hot, dusty and tired. She held a girl of about three or four on her lap. The child clung tightly to her mother. A boy a few years older leaned against the door behind her holding a large calico cat.
“Who is she?” Paul asked.
“That is my annoying cousin Clara Fisher.” Ralph opened his car door and got out. Paul did the same.
The woman glared at both men. “Why are there padlocks on the doors, Ralph? Eli never locked his home.”
“They are there to keep unwanted visitors out. What are you doing here?” Ralph demanded.
“I live here. May I have the keys, please? My children and I are weary.”
Ralph’s eyebrows snapped together in a fierce frown. “What do you mean you live here?”
“What part did you fail to understand, Ralph? I...live...here,” she said slowly, as if speaking to a small child.
Ralph’s face darkened with anger. Paul had to turn away to keep from laughing.
“You can poke fun at me if you want but that is not an explanation.” The man was livid.
Clara sat where she was, seemingly unruffled by his ire. “Eli invited us to live with him last Christmas. We moved in six months ago.”
“No one told me that. I didn’t see you at the funeral.”
“We have been in Maryland visiting my mother for the past month.” She stroked her little girl’s hair. “Sophie became ill and was in the hospital briefly. Eli’s friend Dan Kauffman called me to tell me about Eli’s passing. He knew Mother and I couldn’t return for the funeral. Surely he told you that, for I know he attended.”
“I don’t speak to the Amish and they don’t speak to me. You’ll have to find somewhere else to live. Uncle Eli left the farm to me.”
Her eyes widened with astonishment. “I don’t believe it. He told me he had amended the farm trust and made me the beneficiary months ago.”
Ralph looked stunned but he quickly recovered and glared at her. “Even if he did, he revoked that amendment three weeks ago when he made me the new trustee. He said nothing about you or your children. That’s