Esther shuffled across the living room in her socked feet, stopping to peer over her sister’s shoulder—an easy enough task since Lizzie was a tiny woman. She squinted against the glare of the morning sun, then gently reached for the binoculars her sister had pressed to her eyes.
“What have I told you about spying on that poor man?” Esther set the binoculars on the coffee table, straightened, put her hands on her hips, and waited for Lizzie to turn around.
Her sister spun to face her and huffed before shifting her dentures back and forth in her mouth, a compulsion that had become as much a part of Lizzie as the air she breathed.
“It’s not normal for an Englisch man to rent a small cottage without electricity,” Lizzie said. “He never leaves the haus, even though he has a fancy automobile parked out front. And I saw a young woman pull up yesterday in a little red car. She had a bunch of bags and looked like she was delivering groceries to him.” Lizzie shook her head, causing strands of gray hair to fall from beneath her prayer covering.
Esther ambled to one of the rocking chairs and sat. Her knees had been swelling since she woke up this morning, which was usually a sign that rain was coming. Or that she’d been on her feet too much the day before.
“We’ve had several people rent the cottage who weren’t Amish,” she said. “He signed a lease for six months, and this is November. He’ll likely be gone before the summer heat arrives. He’s only been here a week, so maybe he is just getting settled.”
She rubbed her hands on her knees, trying to recall if she had any of the cream left that the doctor had prescribed for her arthritis, before she locked eyes with her sister. Esther often wondered how they shared the same genes. Lizzie was seventy-five, but she was as spry as any fifty-year-old Esther knew, and the woman didn’t have any known ailments. She had no issues with high cholesterol, she’d been spared arthritis, her blood sugar was normal—despite the ridiculous amounts of sweets she ate—and Esther had recently seen her running after a rooster by the chicken coop.
Running. Like a teenager.
Lizzie scowled. “I just don’t know about him.”
Esther folded her hands in her lap, kicked the rocker into motion, and sighed. “Ya, exactly. You’ve never even met the fellow.” She waved a hand toward their guest cottage. She and Lizzie had plenty of rooms for rent in the main house—the Peony Inn where they resided—but the older man had specifically requested the cottage for six months. “Why don’t you just go over there, introduce yourself, and stop spying and chattering about him?”
Lizzie pointed a finger at Esther, maintaining her frown. “I don’t go inside that cottage anymore.” She lowered her arm and raised both eyebrows. “And you know why.”
Esther chuckled. “Ya, I know why, and it’s silly, Lizzie. The cottage isn’t haunted. We don’t believe in such things.”
“Maybe you don’t. But you’re not the one Gus is haunting.” Lizzie stomped a foot. “I knew that man would find a way to spook me even after his passing.”
Grumpy Gus, as they’d lovingly referred to him, had been a thorn in Lizzie’s side right up until the end of his life. Gus felt the same way about Lizzie, but the two adversaries had made their peace before Gus died.
“Gus is not haunting you.” Esther rolled her eyes. “And if you’d been here when Dr. Stoltzfus checked in, you would have seen that he is a very nice, retired dentist. He might even be able to help you with your dentures.” Esther doubted it. Lizzie had been to countless dentists, none of whom could find anything wrong with the way the dentures fit. “He’s actually quite handsome.”
Esther felt herself blushing, surprised at herself for verbalizing
the thought.
Lizzie ignored the comment, her finger pointed at Esther again as she wagged it fiercely while drawing her eyebrows into a frown. “And that’s another thing. ‘Stoltzfus’ is an Amish name. Why does an Englisch doctor have an Amish name?”
Esther shrugged. “I have no idea. On his rental application, he provided plenty of good references, and he appeared to be a respected member of his community until he retired ten years ago. When did you become so suspicious of people? You’ve never behaved like this in the past.”
“We’ve never had a stranger rent the cottage. It’s always been locals, even after Gus died. The same thing with the other house that’s unoccupied at the moment. We’ve always known the folks renting it.” She scratched her jaw. “And what has the dentist been doing for the last ten years?” Lizzie lowered her arm but raised her chin.
Esther rubbed her eyes, buying a little time to think of something to pacify her sister’s concerns. “Lizzie, we run a bed-and-breakfast inn. We have strangers in and out all the time, and we’ve never had a problem we couldn’t handle. It’s none of our business why Dr. Stoltzfus is here. He paid for all six months in advance. If you want to know more about him, then you need to march over there and introduce yourself.”
“Hmph.” Lizzie kept her chin up as she pounded her way to the kitchen, shaking the wood floor with all ninety-five pounds of her tiny frame.
Esther slowly lifted her much larger and wider self to a standing position, stretching her arms above her head before she made her way to the fireplace to add another log. Then she stepped into a pair of slippers nearby. Life at the inn was casual this week since they had no tenants, but they would have a houseful coming on Friday.
She stopped at the window, briefly peered at the other house they often rented on the property, currently unoccupied, then set her eyes on the small cottage. Lizzie was right that their new guest had stayed mostly to himself. But Esther thought of that as a bonus. The man didn’t complain about anything, and he had paid up front. What had caught her off guard was the man’s looks. He had been extremely charming, well-dressed in English clothes, and very handsome with a full head of gray hair and a clean-shaven face. He didn’t look like he was in his mid-seventies, which Esther had estimated him to be based on his rental application and work history.
Lizzie had a mouthful of chocolate-chip cookie when Esther walked into the kitchen.
“How is that you can eat a dozen of those, not gain a pound, and your glucose is never high?” Esther sighed as she sat across from her sister at the table. “My blood sugar goes up if I even look at cookies or other sweets.” Esther was only two years older than Lizzie, and it seemed unfair that Esther couldn’t
indulge without consequences. She’d tried losing weight and ate the right foods—most of the time—but her diabetes remained.
“I baked you some sugar-free cookies.” Lizzie said through a mouthful as she pointed to a cookie jar on the counter.
As Lizzie had grown increasingly unfond of cooking and baking, Esther appreciated her sister’s efforts. “Danki for that, but you know they don’t taste the same.” She decided to throw caution to the wind and reached for one of the smaller normal cookies on the platter. After a dainty bite, savoring the flavor, she said, “Don’t forget, we have six women coming Friday afternoon.”
Lizzie nodded as she snatched another cookie. “Ya, I know. The cleaning service will be here tomorrow to remake the beds and tidy up the rooms. I’ve already checked inventory for food. We’re set.”
Esther and Lizzie had hired unwed Amish girls to help with the Peony Inn in the past, but most of the young women in their small Montgomery, Indiana, community had married. They’d hired an English cleaning service last year when help became too hard to find. Esther could barely get up and down the stairs these days. Lizzie often took them two at a time, on the way up and back down again. Still, although Esther and her sister didn’t always agree on things, they’d agreed it was too big a house for them to handle on their own. Lizzie was spunky, but she tired the same way Esther did. It just took her longer.
Esther plopped the last bit of cookie into her mouth. “Maybe I should invite our new tenant here for a meal since you are caught up in ghostly nonsense and choose not to go meet him at the cottage.”
“You can call it ‘ghostly nonsense’ or whatever you like. Things fall off shelves when I’m there. The battery-operated can opener comes on whenever it feels like it. And the place smells weird.”
Knowing Lizzie really did believe Gus was haunting her, Esther stifled a gut-busting laugh. She cleared her throat. “Things fall because the cottage needs leveling. The can opener probably needs new batteries. And if it smells weird—as you put it—it was probably from being closed up and unoccupied part of the summer.”
“Well, don’t invite that man here. Ghosts can attach themselves to people, and the old dentist might bring Gus along with him over here to haunt me.”
“Ach, Lizzie!” This time Esther couldn’t hold back as she laughed aloud. “That is all such nonsense. You need to go back to your clean and wholesome romance novels. You’re reading too many books about silly things. I know you try to hide some of the novels
you bring home, but you left one on your bed about murderers. That type of literature is affecting your ability to think clearly, and the bishop would not approve of them or your way of thinking. Neither would Gott. That type of reading is making you act irrationally.”
Lizzie groaned before she got up and left the kitchen.
Esther shook her head. Lizzie was the quirkiest person she knew, and Esther couldn’t love her more if she tried. But Esther had a secret. She and Lizzie had spent years playing matchmaker for others since they had opened the Peony Inn after the deaths of their husbands. Both men had died much too young, and she and Lizzie had struggled to fill the voids. Turning their childhood home into a bed-and-breakfast had occupied their minds and helped them work through their grief. They’d slipped into the roles of matchmakers easily. She and Lizzie had loved deeply, and they rejoiced each time an opportunity presented itself to nudge two deserving people into a romantic relationship. But they’d never played matchmaker for each other. It seemed nonsensical at their age.
Until Esther met the handsome and charming English man renting their cottage.
Esther was overweight and had a long list of ailments, some which had worsened over the past year. In her heart she was sure God would call her home first, and Lizzie would be devastated. It would be easier for her sister if she weren’t alone. And Esther had a plan.
* * *
Lizzie went to her bedroom and closed the door. A few minutes later, she heard Esther’s bedroom door close. They occupied the only two downstairs bedrooms. The other rooms were upstairs for guests. Lizzie and her sister were like clockwork when it came to naps. Two o’clock, every day. But Lizzie wasn’t tired today.
She waited until she heard Esther snoring on the other side of the wall that separated them, then she tiptoed to the living room and picked up the binoculars.
After she padded back to her bedroom in her black socks, she went to the only window in her room with a view of the cottage. A view partially obstructed by an overgrown tree outside. She made a mental note to ask the young man who took care of the property to trim back the branches. For now, she leaned as far to one side as she could, the binoculars up and ready. She watched for a good ten minutes before she decided this was a waste of time. What were the chances the reclusive mystery dentist would step outside when she was watching?
“Ugh.” She tossed the binoculars onto her bed and went to the candy bowl she kept on her bedside table. She unwrapped two Hershey Kisses and popped them in her mouth, tempted to take out her stupid teeth and gum the candy into submission. If none of the fancy dentists in Bloomington had been able to fix her teeth, she doubted an old, retired dentist would have any new tricks up his sleeve.
Lizzie had her reasons for wanting to know more about their renter. She had an idea, and for her to execute her plan, she had to make sure the man wasn’t a serial killer who’d faked his references
and was just biding his time until he would sneak over to the inn and slice them both up. Maybe he would hide their bodies in the deep freeze and say they’d gone missing, citing dementia or some other mind-altering affliction.
And the name Stoltzfus was about as Amish as you could get. Had the dentist been Amish in his youth, before he went to medical school?
Or maybe he’s really an Amish man in hiding, pretending to be a retired dentist. If so, why is he hiding?
Her mind drifted back to the serial-killer theory. Then she shook her head and reached for two more pieces of candy. She shivered, realizing her thought process was off-kilter. Esther was right . . . She needed to go back to her romance books. They always had a happy ending. Her reading choices of late had been about ghosts and murderers and all things unpleasant. The bishop definitely would not approve.
Lizzie opened the bottom drawer of her nightstand and picked up the latest books she’d bought at a used bookstore on one of her trips to Bedford via a driver she’d hired. Jake Lantz certainly wouldn’t carry any of those type of books at his bookstore here in Montgomery. Nor did she want anyone knowing she was reading such torrid tales. If Gus hadn’t started haunting her, she would have never picked up the first book. Esther would be shocked to know how far her reading habits had gone right down the toilet since then—much worse than the one book her sister had spotted on the bed.
She placed her five latest books on the bed and eyed the titles.
How to Know When a House Is Haunted.
The Most Notorious Killers in History.
When Your Neighbor Is Not Your Friend. She raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath before she glanced at the other titles.
Spirits Among Us.
And last, but not least . . . Unsolved Murders. No wonder she was spooked and suspicious all the time. When had she become someone who read this kind of stuff?
She needed to donate the books to a library or the Donation Spot, a local place that took just about anything, like a Goodwill organization. She briefly considered burning them in the fireplace, but that didn’t feel right. She promised herself she was back to her happily-ever-after romances. Lizzie preferred romance, but leave it to Gus to scare her senseless and set her on the wrong path.
She gathered up her books and looked up at the ceiling. “Nice try, Gus, trying to sway me to the dark side.” Then she dumped them back into the drawer and sat on the bed, dangling her feet since they didn’t reach the floor.
One way or another, she was going to have to find out about their new renter. But she wasn’t going inside that cottage.
Lizzie chuckled softly. Maybe Esther was right. How much harm could a man in his seventies—his presumed age, according to Esther—cause anyway? Yawning, she tossed back her covers and decided maybe she needed that nap after all. But not before one final peep out the window—
She stiffened all over, paralyzed, when she saw movement on the cottage porch. When she snapped out of it, she took the binoculars and brought them to her face so fast that she hit her nose, hard enough that she almost cried out. Biting her lip to silence herself, she hoped her racing heart would slow down as she adjusted the focus on the binoculars.
“Oh my,” she said in a whisper. She’d been trying all week to get a peep at their new tenant. She’d heard Esther say earlier today that he was handsome. Her sister probably didn’t realize she had mentioned his good looks before, after first meeting him. Her comment was what had sparked Lizzie’s idea. Esther had a gleam in her eye every time she spoke about Dr. Stoltzfus. Lizzie just had to make sure he was honorable.
At first glance she could no longer imagine him as any type of criminal or someone living a secret life. Dr. Stoltzfus was a tall man. A tall and handsome hunk. She’d learned that word from her romance novels. He had a full head of gray hair, was proportionally built, and she’d bet money he had good teeth since he was a dentist, which seemed more plausible now that she was able to have a good look at him. He wore blue jeans and running shoes, and she saw the hint of a white shirt beneath his blue jacket.
Please, dear Gott, don’t let him be a bad man. I pray he is a gut man. I pray he is a kind man.
Lizzie lowered the binoculars and smiled. God was going to answer her prayer. Maybe it was her reward for deciding to get rid of those books, even though she knew God didn’t work that way.
Esther was the best person Lizzie had ever known. They hadn’t had a chance to play matchmaker in a long while. Who better to set on the path to romance than her beloved sister? It would be wonderful to watch Esther fall in love. And Dr. Stoltzfus might be just the right person. Lizzie had never heard her sister say a man was handsome until now—except for her beloved husband. There hadn’t been any eligible Amish widowers their age in a long time. At least none that would lead to anything romantic.
For a moment Lizzie wondered if this was a silly idea, to play matchmaker at their ages. She decided it wasn’t silly at all, and her heart smiled as she lay on the bed, resting her arms behind her head. God would continue to answer her prayers. Lizzie was hoping Esther and the doctor would fall in love. Even though he wasn’t Amish, at their age, they could provide each other companionship, go out to supper together, roast marshmallows on a cold night. Esther had put up with her fair share of Lizzie’s shenanigans. Her sister deserved another true love in her life.
Lizzie sat up on her elbows and looked up again. Lord, could you make him
be a Christian?
She didn’t want to get too far ahead of herself, but she dozed off feeling content that she was back in the matchmaking role she enjoyed. Only this time, Esther was on the other side of the playing field.
Benjamin Stoltzfus stood on the front porch of the cottage he had recently rented. It was smaller than he’d thought it would be. Even though his house in Pennsylvania had become too much to manage, his new temporary home was a bit confining.
He waved when his granddaughter came up the driveway in her little red car. Ben had tried to buy her a newer and larger vehicle, but Mindy wouldn’t hear of it. She said she liked the gas mileage and was comfortable in her automobile. Ben worried about her having an accident in such a small car.
“What in the world do you have in those bags?” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. His granddaughter had already loaded him up with groceries, refusing to let him pay her.
“Just a few things you need.” His only living relative smiled at him. She’d been one of the reasons he had moved to Montgomery. The biggest reason.
Plastic bags hung from both wrists as she made her way up the porch steps. “I brought you a couple of scented candles to help with the musty smell inside, some extra ice trays, and a heating pad for when your back acts up.”
“You are a sweetheart.” Ben remembered telling his granddaughter how the refrigerator ran on propane and didn’t have an ice maker. “The extra ice trays will come in handy, and the candles will be nice.” He took the bags from her, smiling. “But unless the heating pad runs on batteries, I’m afraid it won’t do me much good. I appreciate the thought, though.”
Mindy stomped a foot. “Ugh. That’s right. No electricity.” She shook her head, then followed him inside. “I still don’t understand why you rented a place with no electricity.”
Ben had his reasons, but he wasn’t ready to share them with his granddaughter yet. He set the bags on the couch and took a quick peek at the items before he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “I’m not accepting these unless you allow me to pay you.”
“Grandpa . . .” She rolled her beautiful green eyes. With her tall build and long, wavy brown hair, she looked so much like her grandmother it startled Ben sometimes. He and Elsa had lost their son, Jimmy, much too young, when Mindy was only four years old. After Nina, his daughter-in-law, had remarried, they’d moved too far away to really get to know his granddaughter, and Nina discouraged visits. His daughter-in-law had moved on with her life, and it was either too painful for her to be around Jimmy’s father, or she just chose to embrace her new life exclusive of the past.
Ben and Mindy had exchanged birthday and holiday cards for years. As much as he longed to be a part of her life, he wanted to do things at her pace. It wasn’t until Mindy got older that she really reached out to him, and they began to email on a regular basis. They also talked on the phone when her schedule allowed it, although Ben went to bed early most nights.
His granddaughter was lovely on the outside and equally as beautiful on the inside. Ben was thrilled to be near her.
“I’m serious, Mindy. I have plenty of money, and I don’t want you spending your hard-earned cash on me. ...
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