Amish Cooking Class - The Seekers Read online

  Lyle leaned against the barn wall, folding his arms. “As I’m sure you know, she’s a pretty fair cook.”

  “Jah, and so was my fraa, but she never taught anyone.” Eli rubbed the side of his bearded face. As always, thinking about Mavis caused him to miss her. He could hardly believe she’d been gone a year already. If only she hadn’t ridden her bike to visit a friend and stayed until the sun began to set, when there’d been less visibility. If Mavis had been using her horse and buggy that evening, she might still be alive.

  Lyle bumped Eli’s shoulder again. “Say, I have an idea. Why don’t you sign up for Heidi’s cooking classes?”

  Eli’s eyes widened as he touched his chest. “Me? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. You’ve mention many times about how bad your cooking is. If you learn how to cook, you’d be eatin’ a lot better meals than tuna sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs.”

  “Not sure I’d be comfortable taking classes. It’ll probably be a bunch of women, and I’d feel as out of place as a child tryin’ to guide a horse and buggy down the road.” Eli walked over to the barn’s entrance and gazed out across his property. Looking at everything, one would never know his wife was gone. The daffodils she’d planted a few years ago were bursting with yellow blossoms. The colorful hyacinths, in an array of pink, white, and purple, bloomed near the porch. Eli could almost visualize Mavis reaching down to take a whiff of their fragrance. She loved the smell of hyacinths, and in the spring she’d put a few in a vase on the kitchen table.

  Several bird feeders swayed as soft breezes wafted through branches where they hung. Cardinals, goldfinches, and bluebirds ate in friendly comradery. An image of Mavis standing in front of the kitchen window came to mind, and Eli recalled her contented expression.

  A few times she’d caught him watching her, and then they’d stood together and gazed at the birds gathering around the feeders. It seemed everywhere he looked these days a vision of Mavis materialized before his eyes. Eli hoped he could hold those precious moments in his mind forever. He never wanted to forget her sweet face.

  Little things, such as feeding the birds, gave pleasant memories, but walking into the house was a different story. Gone were the days when he’d enter the kitchen and mouthwatering smells reached his nostrils. Eli remembered how his wife’s pumpkin cinnamon rolls filled the whole house with their spicy aroma. Since Mavis knew they were his favorites, she made them quite often. Sometimes, even the fragrance of Mavis’s hair would capture traces of what she had baked. When Eli greeted his wife after a long day’s work, he wanted to hold her until the sun went down, filling his senses with the warmth of her body and scent of her hair.

  Cherished flashbacks like these were bittersweet, popping into his mind at unexpected moments. While agonizing to think about, they were also more precious than ever.

  At least I have those treasured memories tucked away safely right here. Eli touched his chest, aware of his heart thumping beneath his hand.

  “Hey, are you feeling okay?” Lyle nudged Eli’s arm. “Did you hear what I said a few seconds ago?”

  “What? Oh, uh … jah. I … I was thinkin’ about something, is all.” Eli’s face warmed as he focused on his friend. “What were you saying?”

  “Said you may be surprised who all shows up at Heidi’s cooking classes.” Lyle bent down to pluck a piece of straw off his trousers. “Heidi’s aunt Emma hosts quilting classes in her home, and she’s taught several men to quilt. Fact is, it’s my understanding that they enjoyed it almost as much as the women did. According to Emma, some of the men became quite good at quilting.”

  “Is that a fact?” As he tugged his earlobe, Eli sucked in his lower lip. “Danki for the mention. I’ll give it some thought.”

  Chapter 2

  Mt. Hope, Ohio

  Kendra Perkins turned toward the window, hoping the sunny sky would brighten her mood. She’d been staying with her friend Dorie Hampton for the past week—ever since Kendra’s parents kicked her out of their house. She had only been allowed to take her clothes and personal items—nothing else. A year ago, Kendra would have never believed something like this would happen to her. It wasn’t fair. What kind of parents could do such a thing? She shouldn’t be punished for one little mistake.

  Guess it’s not a little mistake. Fingers clenched, Kendra swallowed hard. What I did was wrong, but are Mom and Dad so self-righteous they can’t admit to ever having made a mistake? Is there no forgiveness in their hearts toward their wayward daughter?

  Determined not to succumb to self-pity, Kendra turned her attention to the newspaper want ads on the kitchen table. She couldn’t live in Dorie’s tiny mobile home forever. She needed to find a job so she could support herself. She had to make a decision about the future of her unborn child before her October due date.

  “Find anything yet?” Dorie asked, walking into the kitchen.

  Kendra shook her head. “But then, I only began looking a few minutes ago.”

  Dorie handed Kendra a glass of cranberry juice and took a seat at the table. “Maybe you should have stayed in college and continued working toward a career in nursing.”

  Kendra gave an undignified snort. “If Mom and Dad kicked me out of their house, they sure weren’t going to keep paying my tuition.” Her face contorted as she brought her fingers to her lips. “They think I’m a sinner, and they’re ashamed of me for giving in to my desire and becoming intimate with Max. Since I’m the oldest daughter, I’m supposed to set a good example for my two younger sisters.”

  “Maybe they need more time to come to grips with this. After all, it’s their grandchild you’re carrying.”

  “Doesn’t mean a thing. My dad’s on the church board, and he made it clear that I’ve humiliated him.” She sniffed deeply, shifting in her chair. “Guess he thinks the church wouldn’t forgive me if they knew. So mum’s the word, if you get my meaning. And Mom … Well, she can’t think for herself these days. Even if she did want to help me, she’d go along with whatever Dad says.”

  Kendra wished she could forget what had happened, but how could she erase her pregnancy or her parents’ rejection? She had considered not telling them about the baby, hoping her boyfriend, Max, would marry her. But things blew up in her face when she told him about the child and he’d asked her to get an abortion. Max was out of her life now. He’d found another girlfriend and joined the navy. With any luck, she’d never see him again.

  Kendra wished she could have hidden her condition from her folks as long as possible, but with her small, 110-pound frame and five-foot-two height, it would be fruitless to try and cover up her pregnancy once she started to show. Consequently, she’d decided to tell her folks right away. She had hoped that, for once, Mom would stick up for her. Guess I should have known better, ‘cause she never has before—at least not on things where she’d have to go against Dad.

  Kendra wondered what excuse her parents had given to her younger sisters, Chris and Shelly, when she moved out. Had they told them the truth or made up some story, making it look like Kendra left of her own accord? No doubt, they’d kept it a secret, too embarrassed to tell her sisters the facts.

  Swallowing against the bitter-tasting bile in her throat, Kendra left her seat and got a drink of water. She would never forget the look on Dad’s face when she told him and Mom about her pregnancy. His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as his face turned bright red. Kendra feared he might explode. Instead, he turned his back on her, staring into the fireplace. Dad stood quietly several minutes, shoulders rising up and down as he breathed slowly in and out. Then, when she thought she could stand it no longer, he turned to face her. Speaking calmly, as though he was talking about the weather, Dad told Kendra he wanted her out of the house by the next day, and said she was not to say anything to her sisters about any of this. Without another word, he left the room and never looked back. Like a whipped pup with its tail between its legs, Mom followed meekly behind him. Kendra’s own mother said nothing to her. Not a
single word.

  Scattering Kendra’s thoughts, Dorie pulled the newspaper over and circled several ads. “I see a few openings for hotel housekeepers and waitresses.”

  “Okay, I’ll check them out.” Kendra gave an impatient snort. “Can’t remember when I’ve ever felt so depressed. It feels like nothing in my life will ever be right again.”

  “Sure it will. It’s gonna take time, but you’ll see—eventually things will get better and work out.” Dorie tapped the newspaper with her pen. “Hey, check this ad out. An Amish woman will be teaching cooking classes at her home in Walnut Creek.”

  Kendra squinted. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “The classes are every other Saturday, beginning next week and going through June. You should go, Kendra. It’ll give you something fun to do.”

  Kendra sat down with a huff. “I don’t even have a job yet. How can I afford to take cooking classes? And what if I get a job and have to work on Saturdays?”

  “You can worry about your work schedule once you find a job.” Dorie gave Kendra’s arm a gentle tap. “There’s no problem with the classes; I’ll pay for them. Even though your birthday isn’t till December, let’s call it an early present.”

  Berlin, Ohio

  The muscles in Ron Hensley’s neck twitched as he drove around town, looking for a parking space big enough for his motor home. He settled on the German Village parking lot, but his vehicle took up two parking spots. Ron noticed a few other free spaces and hoped no one would complain. His pounding headache and jitteriness indicated a need for coffee and something to eat.

  Ron’s funds were getting low, and he had to find a place to park his RV for a few days. It wasn’t cheap to put fuel in the tank, so for now, road travel must be curtailed.

  Sometimes Ron wondered why he’d chosen this way to live, but his rationale took over. This was the way it had to be. How many times had he told himself the outdated motor home was less expensive than owning a real home or finding an apartment to rent? It also gave Ron a chance to travel and meet new people, even if he did take advantage of their hospitality. His predicament could be frustrating, though—especially when funds ran low and he couldn’t afford to buy food, cigarettes, or beer. Ron figured at this point in his life things were as good as they were going to get. His motor home didn’t have all the bells and whistles, like newer models, but it served his purpose, and that’s what mattered.

  Stepping inside the German Village market, Ron spotted a small café. He went in and ordered a cup of black coffee and a ham sandwich, then took a seat at one of the tables. As Ron watched the people in the market, many of them Amish, he thought about how trusting most Amish folks were. Not like most English people he’d met.

  Last week Ron had parked his RV on an Amish man’s property in Baltic. He’d eaten several good meals the man’s wife had prepared, and they’d even given him money when he told them he was broke. The week before, Ron had camped in Sugarcreek a few days then moved on to Charm. This was his second time in the area. He’d been to Holmes County a year ago, but he didn’t hang around too long.

  Might stay longer this time if I find a good place to park my rig. Ron scratched his receding hairline. If he remembered correctly, Amish communities were abundant here, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to find the right house.

  Ron lingered awhile after he finished eating and drank a second cup of coffee. He slid his fingers over his short, slightly gray beard and smoothed his mustache. The sandwich and coffee sure hit the spot, and the trembling had stopped.

  Ron belched then quickly looked around. Activity continued in the marketplace. No one seemed to have heard the rude sound. At least nobody looked his way.

  Sure could go for a piece of pie. Ron noticed a young Amish man’s plate on the table close by. Creamy chocolate spilled out between the crust of his pie, and a mountain of whipped cream swirled over the top. Ron’s mouth watered, and he turned his head away so his stomach wouldn’t win out. Nope. I don’t need any pie. Can’t afford to spend the extra money on it, either.

  Feeling more alert after two cups of coffee and ready to hit the road, Ron cleared his dishes from the table and headed out of the market. He was almost to the door when he spotted some flyers pinned to a bulletin board. One advertised an auction in Mt. Hope. Another told about a tour of an Amish home, which included a meal. A third flyer advertised some cooking classes in Walnut Creek. He pulled it off the board, because there were directions to the Amish home. Ron wasn’t interested in cooking classes, not to mention he had no spare money to pay for them. But this might be a good place to park his motor home for a while. If the lady of the house cooked well enough to offer classes, she might offer him some free meals. In return, he could help around the place. Walnut Creek was less than ten miles away. Think I’ll head over there right now and check things out.

  Walnut Creek

  On her way back from the mailbox, Heidi stopped at the phone shack to check for messages. She found one from her mother. Heidi listened as Mom told her how things were going at their home in Geauga County. The message ended with Mom saying she’d talked to her sister, Emma, the other day and had passed on the news about Heidi’s plans to teach cooking classes.

  Heidi smiled, sitting up straight on the stool. Mom’s obviously happy about this or she wouldn’t be spreading the news. I’m happy too, but a bit naerfich, wondering how things will go.

  Heidi was about to step out of the phone shack when the telephone rang. She turned and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Heidi, is that you?”

  “Jah. Is this Aunt Emma?”

  A chuckle erupted on the other end of the line. “It certainly is. I heard from your mamm the other day. She said you were making plans to teach cooking classes.”

  “I am. The first class will begin next Saturday. To be honest, I’m a bit apprehensive, wondering how it will go.”

  “I understand. When I taught my first quilting class, I was so naerfich I could hardly eat breakfast the morning it started.”

  Heidi’s stomach tightened. If Aunt Emma, an experienced quilter, had felt nervous, she could only imagine how she would feel next Saturday morning.

  “Not to worry, though,” Aunt Emma quickly added. “Once all your students show up and you begin cooking, your nerves will settle, and your skills will kick in. Believe me, you’ll simply relax and have a good time.”

  “I … I hope so.” Heidi shifted the receiver to her other ear. “Cooking for Lyle, or even when we have company, is one thing, but teaching strangers to cook could prove to be a challenge.”

  “You’ll do fine. I have every confidence in your ability to teach your students. Speaking of which, how many are signed up for your class?”

  “Only one woman and our neighbor, Eli, so far, but I’m hoping I’ll get more before next week.”

  “I’m sure God will send the people He wants you to teach.” Aunt Emma’s tone sounded so confident. “Ask for His guidance, and remember, I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Danki. I feel better after talking to you.”

  “Do keep me posted, and should any of your students share a personal problem with you, don’t hesitate to seek God’s wisdom on their behalf.”

  Heidi gulped. She remembered hearing how Aunt Emma had mentored several of her quilting students. Maybe those who come to my class won’t have any problems they need to share. I hope that’s the case, because I’m not sure I’m up to the task.

  “I sense by your silence you still have some doubts.”

  “I do have a few,” Heidi admitted, “but it helps knowing you’ll be praying for me.”

  “I’m sure others will pray as well.”

  Heidi opened the door and peered out when she heard the rumble of a vehicle outside. It surprised her to see an older model RV coming up the driveway. “Someone’s here, Aunt Emma, so I’d better hang up. Danki for calling, and I’ll keep you informed on how things go with my classes.”

  “
All right, dear. I’ll be anxious to hear. Now have a good day.”

  Heidi told her aunt goodbye, hung up the phone, and stepped outside in time to see a vehicle stop near the house. I wonder who it is and what they want.

  Chapter 3

  May I help you?” Heidi asked, walking up to the man who had gotten out of his motor home. She figured he might be lost and in need of directions.

  He took a step toward her and extended his hand. “My name’s Ron Hensley, and I’m havin’ a problem with my rig. It hasn’t been runnin’ right today. I’m afraid if I keep pushing, the engine might blow.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. Maybe you need a mechanic to look at your vehicle.”

  “Well, the thing is …” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t have the money for repairs right now. What I need is a place to park my RV till I figure out the problem and fix it myself.” He looked down at his worn-looking boots then back at Heidi. “I’m kind of in a bind. Would ya mind if I stayed here a few days?”

  Taken aback by his unexpected question, Heidi glanced toward the road. I wish Lyle was here so he could handle this situation.

  “I understand your hesitation.” Ron shifted his weight. “I don’t want to put you out, and I normally wouldn’t ask, but I’m kinda desperate right now.”

  Heidi swallowed hard. Please, Lord, help me do the right thing.

  No sooner had she silently prayed than Lyle’s driver, Eric Barnes, pulled in. Thank You, Lord. She hurried down the driveway to speak with Lyle.

  “You look upset. Was is letz do?” Lyle asked in Pennsylvania Dutch after he waved goodbye to Eric.

  “I’m hoping nothing is wrong here, but I am a little concerned.” Heidi gestured to Ron and told Lyle the man had asked if he could park his motor home on their property a few days while he worked on it.

  Lyle’s forehead creased as he rubbed the side of his bearded face and glanced toward the man standing beside his RV with hands in his pockets. “What’d you tell him?”