trinkets of the sort beloved of tourists. In a few steps Mandy, forgetting live bait, had become absorbed by a display of small wooden Amish dolls.
“Rachel Mason!” The voice boomed from the counter at the rear of the shop. “It wondered me when you’d get in here to say hello to old friends.”
“Anna.” A trickle of thankfulness ran through her at the warmth in Anna Miller’s voice. “It is wonderful gut to see you.”
She lapsed automatically into Pennsylvania Dutch and then caught herself. She’d told herself she would speak English in front of Mandy when they came back here, but she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be.
Catching Mandy’s hand, she led her daughter to the counter. “This is my little girl, Mandy. Mandy, this is Mrs. Miller.”
“Ach, I would know her for yours in a minute.” Anna beamed with satisfaction. “Mandy, do you know you look just like your mammi did at your age?”
Mandy blinked, looking at her mother as if assessing the truth of the claim. “Do I? I haven’t ever seen any pictures of Mommy when she was nine, so I didn’t know.”
“Ach, no, you wouldn’t.” Anna had the trick of talking to a child as if they were contemporaries, which had always made her a favorite with the young ones. “Your mammi was brought up Amish, like me. We don’t hold with taking photographs of people.”
A gesture indicated Anna’s blue dress and matching apron. There were more strands of gray in the brown hair smoothed back under Anna’s kapp, and she’d added another chin or two to her round face, but otherwise she was much as Rachel remembered her.
“Why?” Mandy was being curious, that was all, but had such a blunt question of an adult come from an Amish child, it would have earned a quick reprimand from a parent.
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Rachel said quickly. “You can go and look at the dolls while Mrs. Miller and I talk.”
The flash in Mandy’s intelligent eyes said she knew when she was being gotten rid of, but she returned to the display counter.
“You’ve expanded the shop, I see,” Rachel said quickly. “Business must be good.”
“So-so.” Anna waggled her hand. “We get more tourists through Deer Run than we used to, so I told Jacob we had to take advantage of the trade. And there’s talk that the gas drilling they’re doing north of here will come to this area, too. That will bring in new people, I should think.”
“Do folks want to see that happen here?” From the little she’d read, it sounded as if the new methods of gas drilling caused considerable controversy.
“Some do, some don’t.” Anna’s face clouded. “The bishop fears the effect of easy money on the Leit.”
The Leit. The Amish. She hadn’t heard that expression in years. And the bishop had a typically Amish attitude, which ran exactly counter to contemporary culture, in a case like this. Making money too easily, or becoming what the world would call a success, could have a bad effect on humility, that typically Amish virtue.
“I’d think it safer to count on the tourists,” she said.
“Ja, we do. As you will, too. I hear you are going to open Mason House as a bed-and-breakfast, ain’t so?”
She nodded. News spread fast in a place like Deer Run. She’d only mentioned her plans to Colin yesterday. Of course, Anna would probably have heard through Rachel’s family, not Colin.
“I hope so. I don’t know what else to do with a house that size. It’s way too big for the two of us.” Something Amanda Mason had certainly known when she’d left her property as she had.
Anna nodded. “It’s a gut plan, I think. And it will keep you here, where you belong.”
“I’m afraid not everyone thinks I belong here.” The words slipped out before she could caution herself that they were unwise.
“Don’t you think such a thing. Your daadi will come around, you wait and see.” Anna didn’t bother pretending she didn’t know what Rachel meant. “He is being as stubborn as old Mrs. Mason, and she accepted you in the end, ja?”
Rachel wasn’t sure accepted was the right word, but she nodded. “I hope. So far Benj is the only one acting normal around me. And now you.”
“Not chust me,” Anna responded quickly. “You have plenty of friends here who will be glad to see you. And when you’re ready to open, I will be mentioning your B and B to every tourist who comes in here. Folks will want to stay at a place run by somebody raised Amish. You’ll see.”
That comment stirred up more concerns. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m trying to make money out of having been Amish.”
Anna spread plump hands, palms up. “Why not? Everyone else does, it seems. Folks say the tourists are going to komm anyway. We might as well make some money off them.”
Anna had a point. It seemed she would have to get rid of any squeamish scruples if she intended to make a go of the business.
The bell jingled, and Anna glanced automatically toward the door. “Remember what I was saying about your friends? Here is one, I see. You remember Meredith King, ja?” She raised her voice. “Meredith, look who is here. You and Rachel were great friends when you were little girls, I remember.”
Rachel turned, surveying the woman who stood giving her the once-over in return. Meredith King. Meredith lived just two houses down from Mason House, so she was practically a neighbor now.
The friendship Anna mentioned hadn’t actually lasted very long, but Rachel’s memories of her Englisch friend were oddly distinct. Meredith might no longer wear torn-at-the-knees jeans and faded T-shirts, but her glossy dark brown hair was the same, worn sleekly straight to curve around a fine-boned face.
Meredith’s chocolate-colored eyes seemed to warm when they rested on her. “Rachel, is it really you? I could hardly believe it when I heard you were coming back to Deer Run.”
Rachel felt herself stiffen. “Brave of me, do you think?”
A delicate pink bloomed in Meredith’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean it that way. But if I managed to escape Deer Run, I wouldn’t be coming back in a hurry.”
Before Rachel could think of a proper response, Meredith had turned to Anna. “A quart of the goat’s milk for my mother, please. And if Rachel has time, a couple of coffees and sweet rolls.”
She glanced at Rachel. “Please? I can’t let you get away without a talk after all this time. And Anna has the best coffee and sweet rolls in town.” She gestured toward an area beyond the counter, which Rachel now realized was fitted with a few round tables and chairs, another addition since her time.
“Sounds great. But I have my daughter with me. Let me see if she’s ready for something to drink.” She went quickly to Mandy with the question, but her daughter was busy fitting the pieces of a miniature wooden train together.
“Not now, Mommy.” Mandy didn’t bother to do more than glance up.
“I’ll be over at
