An Amish Arrangement

At least she had been until he told her not to do anything until she heard from him again. When she explained about the meeting that afternoon with Jeremiah and his Realtor, Mr. Paquette warned her to say nothing.

“A real estate transaction is adversarial at best,” he’d said, “and this is far from the best situation.”

“When can you come here?”

“Tell Kitty Vasic to call me, and we’ll discuss it. There’s no reason to involve you and Mr. Stoltzfus at this point.”

“I’ll tell her.”

How could he say she and Jeremiah weren’t involved in deciding the future of the farm? That was the silliest thing she’d ever heard.

“Are you okay, Mommy?” asked Sunni as she came downstairs.

Mercy smiled at her dear daughter, who looked adorable in her light green dress and with her black braids falling over her shoulders. The little girl was sensitive to everyone’s moods, and Mercy didn’t want her to get more upset.

“I’m fine, eolin-i.” The phrase meaning “little one” was one of the few she knew in Korean.

“Is he coming back?”

“Jeremiah?”

“Yeah, him.”

She got the broom she’d found in a kitchen closet and began sweeping the wallpaper scraps into a pile. “He’s returning this afternoon with a friend of his.”

“Is he going to make you sad again?”

Putting aside the broom, Mercy squatted until her eyes were level with her daughter’s. “Jeremiah didn’t intend to make me sad. But he talked about Grandpa Rudy, and that made me sad.”

“Me, too.” Her dark eyes glistened with tears. “I miss his water balloons.”

“I don’t miss that.” Mercy forced humor into her voice. “You two made me your favorite target.”

“It was fun to be splashed on a hot day.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” She hugged Sunni, being careful she didn’t pull her daughter off balance.

Mercy started to add more, but the door opened. She gasped when Jeremiah walked in. Nobody ever knocked at her grandfather’s door, but for the first time, having someone let himself in seemed like an invasion. From where she squatted, it appeared the top of his straw hat brushed the ceiling.

Telling herself not to be frivolous, she made sure Sunni was steady as she came to her own feet. Paper crunched under her sneakers when she turned to him. “I thought you were coming this afternoon.”

“It is afternoon.”

“It is?”

He chuckled. “The hours pass swiftly when there’s plenty of work, ain’t so?”

Mercy warned herself to relax. His teasing was aimed at trying to make the situation as comfortable as possible. “There are never enough hours in a day.”

“True.” He turned to Sunni. “How are you doing today?”

“You aren’t going to make my mommy sad again, are you?” her daughter shot back in a tone that warned Jeremiah he’d be sorry if he did that.

Though she wanted to remind Sunni of her manners, Mercy said nothing. How Jeremiah answered could tell her a lot about what he was planning to do next.

Taking off his hat, he held it by the brim. “I’m sorry if I made her sad before.” He raised his eyes to meet Mercy’s, and she saw his sincerity as he added, “And I don’t want to make her or you sad.”

“So you say,” Sunni retorted, shocking Mercy again. Her daughter wasn’t usually rude, but she seemed to have taken an instant dislike to Jeremiah. Should Mercy heed her daughter’s instincts...which she now could see had been spot-on where her ex-fiancé had been concerned?

But being rude to someone in their home—or what she hoped would be their home—wasn’t acceptable. “Sunni,” she interjected in a firm tone, “it’s not nice to suggest Jeremiah would do something hurtful on purpose.”

As it isn’t kind for me to ask why Grandpa Rudy hid how he was selling the farm that he said would be mine. Why? Why would you change your mind without telling me?

“I’m sorry,” Sunni said, but her obstinate frown countermanded her words.

“It’s okay to ask questions,” Jeremiah replied, “but my mamm says you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

“Who wants to catch flies?” The little girl grimaced. “Gross.”

Mercy struggled not to laugh as she explained the adage to her daughter. Looking at Jeremiah, she said, “It’s past time for Sunni and I to have lunch, and I know how hungry she gets after doing her schoolwork. I’m homeschooling her.” Realizing she was babbling, she added, “Have you eaten?”

“I had the last of the peanut butter for breakfast.”

“You can join us if you don’t mind leftover pizza.”

“Leftover pizza sounds like manna from heaven.”

Laughing, she said, “I didn’t order the manna topping. I hope you like pepperoni.”

A slow smile spread over Jeremiah’s face, and her heart did a stutter step as his blue eyes shone like a cloudless summer sky. He’d been so serious during their previous discussions. Seeing him smile was like being confronted by a stranger.

He is a stranger. A stranger who wants your farm. Telling her heart to behave itself because it’d been so wrong about Graham, she led the way into the kitchen. She’d be a fool to listen to her heart that had believed Graham loved her. Fortunately, she’d realized in time she always would have been a distant second in his affections after his mother.

She’d learned her lesson. Or she should have. Maybe her brain had, but her heart had a lot to learn.

Mercy used the time while she got the pizza out of the ancient refrigerator in the off-white kitchen and began warming it in the oven to regain her equilibrium. She must not be distracted by Jeremiah’s beguiling smile when the future of Come Along Farm was at stake. When she got cans of soda—a special treat for Sunni—from the fridge, she listened as Jeremiah tried to engage her daughter in conversation.

Sunni was being cautious, either not replying or giving a single-word answer. It was a reminder, though Mercy didn’t need one, of how her daughter had been hurt by Graham’s decision to choose someone over them and walk away without a backward look. Too many people had done that to Sunni, and Mercy was determined her daughter wouldn’t feel abandoned again.

They were finishing what was a very uncomfortable lunch when a knock came at the door. Mercy watched as the door opened and a woman stuck her head in.

“Anyone home?”

Mercy was on her feet as Jeremiah pushed back his chair. She saw him reach to assist Sunni and shook her head to halt him. Sunni needed to do everything as other kids did. If Jeremiah acted as if he thought Sunni couldn’t do something, it would make the little girl dislike him more.

Jeremiah appeared taken aback, but drew aside his hands as Sunni pushed her chair out. When Mercy went to the door, he followed.

“Hi, Kitty,” he said before introducing Mercy to his Realtor.