However, at this party, the center of attention was Hannah. Emily glowed as she watched Hannah play with the other Amish children from the district. She cradled the new baby in her arms and looked up at me. “I can’t believe I have another girl, and I’m so very glad. I know that Daniel wanted a son, but I wanted a sister for Hannah.” She looked down at the baby. “Olive and Hannah will be the best of friends. I want for them what I didn’t have with my own sister.”

  Another buggy pulled into the driveway. It seemed that every Amish person in the district was coming to Hannah’s party. Emily’s eyes went wide, and she stood up. “That’s Esther’s buggy,” she whispered.

  A moment later, Esther climbed out of the buggy. She tethered her horse to a tree, because all the hitching posts were taken, and walked over to us.

  Emily held tiny Olive close to her chest. “Esther, I am glad you came, but what are you doing here?”

  Even though she was trying to hide her awkwardness, Esther stiffened as she glanced around the farm. “I came to meet my nieces.”

  Emily’s face broke into the most beautiful smile, and with her new baby in her left arm, she held out her right hand to her sister. “Let me introduce you.”

  Esther took her hand and let Emily walk her over to Hannah.

  Grandma Leah walked over to me, leaning on her cane, and watched the scene unfold as Esther waved to Hannah.

  Lois hurried over and started to translate Emily’s words into sign language for Hannah. Her red-purple hair gleamed in the sunlight.

  “The Lord’s words say that Gott will work for the gut of those who love him,” Grandma Leah said. “That means gut things will come out of everything. Even bad things. Not that we wish for bad things. Our hope is to make as few mistakes as possible and live a righteous life, but we will all fall short of the glory of Gott. When we do, he will be there to catch us and guide us back onto the right path. How Hannah came into the world may not be the way we would have liked, but she’s here now and deserves to be cared for. She’s a child of Gott, too.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes as Hannah wrapped her small arms around Esther in a hug. “She is a very special child of God, I would say.”

  Then the sisters, both young and old, sat on a blanket together. Hannah sat cross-legged on the blanket and held out her arms to Emily. Emily gently set the baby in her arms. Hannah looked up at me with the most radiant smile I had ever seen. Then I glanced at her mother and saw the matching smile.

  Maami’s Easy At-Home Lemon Drops

  Ingredients

  Baking spray

  1 ½ tablespoons lemon juice

  1 teaspoon lemon extract

  2 cups sugar

  ½ cup light corn syrup

  ½ cup water

  3 or 4 drops lemon food coloring

  Confectioner’s sugar

  Candy thermometer

  Directions

  Spray a cookie sheet and kitchen scissors with baking spray.

  Mix the lemon juice and lemon extract in a bowl. Combine the sugar, corn syrup, and water in a saucepan over medium heat. Stir until the sugar is dissolved. When the sugar has dissolved, stop, place a candy thermometer in the saucepan, and keep the mixture on the burner until it reaches 300°F.

  When the mixture hits the correct temperature, remove it from the heat and let it rest for 1 minute.

  Add the lemon juice, lemon extract, and food coloring to the sugar mixture, and stir.

  Working quickly, pour the mixture onto the cookie sheet.

  When the mixture is just cool enough to handle but still soft, pull off pieces and roll them into ropes. Use the kitchen scissors to cut the ropes immediately into drops.

  Roll the still-warm lemon drops in confectioner’s sugar.

  Enjoy!

  Please read on for an excerpt from Marriage Can Be

  Mischief, the next Amish Matchmaker Mystery by

  Amanda Flower.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lois Henry pulled at her multi-colored, geometric-patterned blouse. “It’s so hot this evening, I feel like I’m baking bread inside my shirt. When will this concert be over? Is it running long, or is that just me, because I’m perspiring like Jethro the pig in the noonday sun?” She fanned her red face with the concert program.

  I patted away the dew on my forehead. “Pigs don’t actually sweat,” I said. “That’s why they wallow in mud and water on hot days to cool down.”

  “I didn’t say it for an animal husbandry lesson,” she said. “Did you see what this humidity is doing to my hair?”

  I turned on the lawn chair to have a better look at her. The chair, which, according to Lois, was “vintage” and “a steal” at the local flea market, felt like it could go at any second. I stopped twisting.

  Lois’s typically upright, red-purple, spiky hair dropped to the left side of her head. I didn’t say it, but it reminded me of a grassy field that had been bent over in the wind. “Your hair looks different from normal.” I felt this was the nicest way to put it.

  “It’s going to take me an hour to set my hair again after this. People really don’t know what it takes to look like I do.”

  I certainly didn’t. Lois’s appearance and mine could not be more different if we tried. Although we were the same age, nearing the end of our sixties, and had grown up on the same county road, our upbringings had been very different. I grew up Amish, and Lois grew up Englisch. Even so, we were and remained the best of friends.

  However, I knew that, to many people, we appeared to be an odd pair. I wore a plain dress, sensible black tennis shoes, and a prayer cap. My long white hair was tied back in an Amish bun. Lois wore brightly colored clothes, chunky costume jewelry, and heavy makeup, and she had that striking haircut.

  She leaned across the arm of her chair, and the seat made a dangerous creaking sound. “Did I sweat my eyebrows off?”

  I shook my head “Nee, they are still there.” I did not add that they were looking a tad more wobbly than usual. It was certainly due to the trickle of sweat running down her forehead. I had to agree with Lois that, on such a hot night, the concert should have been over an hour ago. We weren’t the only ones who thought so; several couples and families had gotten up and left.

  Lois shifted her folding lawn chair, and I found myself wincing at the creak and rattle the chair made. I didn’t want her to be hurt if the chair gave way and Lois hit the ground. We were still on the grass square in the middle of the village of Harvest, but any time you fall at our age, it can leave a mark.

  “Careful, Lois, that chair is not as sturdy as you think it is,” I warned.

  She bounced up and down in the chair. “Don’t be silly. It’s as sturdy as they come. They don’t make chairs like this anymore.” With her final bounce, there was a loud crack, and Lois and the chair went down.

  I jumped out of my seat. “Lois, are you all right?”

  The children playing the instruments in the concert froze and stopped playing. The band leader had his arms frozen in the air. Lois waved from the grass. “Keep playing—I’m fine.”

  Several people from nearby blankets and chairs ran over to us. Two Englisch men helped Lois to her feet.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked.

  “Nothing more than a bruised ego, and that stopped really bothering me twenty years ago.” She smiled. “If I became upset every time I fell over, I would be in a perpetual state of nerves.” She smiled at everyone who’d rushed over to help. “Thank you, you’re all too kind. Now run back to your seats, so the concert can continue.”

  After they were out of earshot, Lois said, “Because we need to move this concert along. It’s going on forever.” Lois rubbed the side of her leg. “I spoke too soon about not being hurt.”

  “What’s wrong? Should we find a doctor or nurse?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing as serious as all that. I just banged up my knee.”

  “Let me at least give you some ice for the knee, and here—” I moved my chair next to her. “Sit in this until I get back.”

  My chair was as unstable as hers had been, but it had to be better than standing if her knee was bothering her. “Stay there. I will find the ice.”

  She rubbed her knee. “We can only hope that, by the time you return, this concert will be over. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  “All right,” I said. “Please stay there, and I will find some ice.”

  On the far side of the square there was a small concession booth. I thought I would start there. If I didn’t have any luck, then I would run across the street to the Sunbeam Café and grab a cup of ice from Lois’s granddaughter, Darcy Woodin. But I didn’t want to scare Darcy until I knew how badly Lois was hurt.

  “Excuse me,” I said to a man waiting in line. “Can I just ask for some ice? My friend fell out of her chair and bumped her knee.”

  The Englischer stepped aside. “I saw her go down. It looked like a nasty tumble.”

  The girl inside the food trailer handed me a cup of ice and a fistful of paper towels.

  I smiled at her. “Danki, this is so kind of you.”

  “I’d hurry to get back to your friend if I were you. Margot Rawlings is headed this way, and she has her eyes right on you,” the girl said.

  I looked over my shoulder and found that she was right. I thanked her again.

  “Millie Fisher, can I have a word with you?” Margot called. Her voice had an amazing ability to carry over the struggling notes of the middle school band.

  I sighed and stopped in the middle of the grass. Margot walked up to me and put her hands on her hips. Margot was an Englisch woman who was just a few years younger than I was. I had known her most of my life. Although she was Englisch like Lois, their appearances were very different. Margot wore her hair short like Lois, but it was a pile of soft curls, which she had a habit of patting and pulling at when she was frustrated. She also had a much simpler wardrobe of jeans and plain T-shirts. She was a no-nonsense woman who was doing everything within her power to make sure that Harvest, Ohio, became the number one tourist destination in Amish Country.

  The concert that night was one of her events. Throughout the summer, she had been hosting a concert on the village square every Friday evening at seven. I had heard from Lois that Margot thought it would bring people back into the village in the evening. Typically everything in Harvest closed at five or six, even in the summer. The concerts were popular, and tonight’s had drawn a nice crowd.

  Margot tapped her sneaker-clad foot in the grass. “What is this I hear about Lois Henry falling out of her chair?”

  I held up the cup of ice. “She’s not seriously hurt. We’re taking care of it.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Lois found the chairs at the flea market for what she calls a steal. I think they were past their prime when she got them. I’m very careful when I sit on them, and I try not to breathe while sitting there.”

  Margot shook her head, and her curls hopped in place. I would never say it to her, but her signature curls always reminded me a little bit of baby bunnies hopping up and down on the top of her head. I didn’t think that was an observation she would appreciate.

  “Lois and her flea market finds. Her house is just one big warehouse.”

  I made no comment because Lois was my friend, but at the same time, I agreed with Margot. Lois had an addiction to things, furniture in particular. She loved to collect it, but she really didn’t have anywhere to put the acquisitions in her two-bedroom rental house on the edge of downtown. On the other hand, she lived alone, her collection wasn’t hurting anyone, and it made her happy. It wasn’t as if she was a hoarder. Lois was a collector.

  Also, she was one of the most giving people I knew. If a friend came to her and she heard that they needed a piece of furniture, she wouldn’t think twice about giving it to them, no matter what it had cost her to buy it.

  Margot looked over her shoulder at Lois. “It’s not the village’s fault that she had a defective chair.”

  “I don’t believe she was blaming anyone for the accident.”

  “Hmm.”

  “And if you are so concerned about Lois, why not go speak to her? She’s sitting right over there. I was taking her this ice, which is melting quickly in the heat.”

  “Well, I am glad she’s all right. I will check on Lois later. You know that when there is an event on the square, I’m very busy. I always have to run from one thing to the next.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep myself from saying something I would regret. I still thought she might ask Lois how Lois was doing.

  “But I am glad I caught you alone. I very much wanted a word with you in private.”

  I shook the ice in the cup and listened for the rattle. I just wanted to know it had not all completely melted away. I had no idea what Margot would want with me. As an Amish person, I could not be on any of her village committees, and I did not offer goods or services that could be part of the programming on the square. I was a quilter by trade and a matchmaker by inclination. I subsisted by making and selling quilts for local shops and custom orders, and I helped the young Amish men and women in the county to find their matches. I have had this gift since I was a small child. I knew in my heart when two people were right for each other. I knew when two people were wrong for each other, too.

  I did not charge for the matchmaking. It was a gift from Gott, and I knew it was not meant to be a business venture, but an adventure in true love.

  “What can I help you with, Margot? I hope you’re not planning to ask me to join any of your committees.”

  “When was the last time you saw Uriah Schrock?”

  “Uriah?” I asked. That was not what I’d expected her to ask. I thought for a moment. As a child, I had gone to the Amish schoolhouse with Uriah. When we were young, he had been sweet on me, but I only had eyes for Kip Fisher. Kip and I were married young and had many wonderful years together, but then he passed away when he was only forty-seven.

  Today Uriah was the groundskeeper of the village square, and that made Margot his boss. If anyone should know where he was, it would be Margot.

  “Yes, he was supposed to be here today for setup as always, but he never showed. I called the shed phone at the farm where he’s been renting a room, and there was no answer.”

  My stomach dropped. That wasn’t like Uriah at all. He was typically a very responsible man. He would not ignore his work.

  “I just wondered if he said anything to you about going back to Indiana. I know the two of you are special friends.” She narrowed her eyes at me when she said that last part.

  I pressed my lips together and willed myself not to blush. I was far too old for blushing. I did not like the idea that people in the village were saying that Uriah and I were “special friends.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I surely did not like the sound of it. Special or not, he was my friend, and it worried me that he had not shown up for work or told Margot where he was. That was not like him at all.

  “Where is he renting a room?” I asked, realizing for the first time that I didn’t know where Uriah had been living since he’d returned to Ohio. Had I never asked him?

  “He’s renting from the Stollers. They are a young couple who live a couple of miles from here on an alpaca farm.”

  “Alpacas?” I asked. “I didn’t know anyone was raising them.”

  “It became very popular in Ohio while you were away from the county.”

  Ten years after my husband died, I moved to Michigan for a decade to care for my ailing sister, Harriet. Only after she passed away did I return to Ohio.

  I nodded, feeling a little surprised Uriah had never mentioned that he lived on an alpaca farm. I would think that would be an interesting bit of information to share.

  “So have you seen Uriah?” Margot started tapping her foot again. Apparently, it was taking me too long to give her a straight answer.

  “Nee, I have not seen him in a few days. I expected to find him at the concert tonight.”

  I did not admit to her that I had been looking for him when I first arrived. Every time Lois and I came to the concert, Uriah made a point of stopping by our chairs and saying hello. Months ago, Uriah had asked me to go on a buggy ride with him. I had been so taken aback by the courting request that I declined. Some days, I wished I had the nerve to tell him I’d changed my mind.

  Margot tugged on her curls, and like some miracle, every time she let them go they bounced perfectly back into place. “It’s very poor form that he didn’t tell me he wouldn’t be here tonight. I had to scramble and tell everyone where to put the chairs and where the band should set up. In the past, I have always relied on Uriah to do that sort of thing. You don’t think he found himself in some kind of trouble, do you?”

  I folded my hands and held them tightly. “Trouble? What do you mean when you say trouble?”

  “Could he have gotten lost or hurt? He’s just not the type not to show up at work without a word. I expect that sort of behavior from the high schooler we hire during the summer to help out with the grounds, but not from someone like Uriah.”

  “Nee, it does seem odd.” My worry grew. “There must be some sort of explanation. Maybe his buggy broke down.”

  “Maybe,” Margot said. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’m even more concerned, knowing you haven’t heard from him. I thought if anyone in the village would know where he is, it would be you. He’s been saying recently that he thought he would move back to Indiana at the end of the summer. He would not leave without telling me first, though.”

  My chest tightened. “I did not know. When did he say that?”

  “A week or two ago,” she said, as if the exact date did not matter. “It was always his plan to go back. All his children and grandchildren are in Indiana. What could be keeping him here?”

  “Nothing, I suppose.” My voice trailed off.

  “He said he would let me know when.” Margot stopped tapping her foot. “So that I had plenty of time to find a replacement caretaker for the village square. That doesn’t sound like someone who would just blow off work.”

 

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