The Amish Quiltmaker's Uninvited Guest

Book 5: Amish Quiltmaker

by Jennifer Beckstrand

Genres: Amish & Mennonite; Christian Romance

Synopsis

The beloved bestselling inspirational romance author continues her uplifting Amish Quiltmakers series set in Colorado. Will appeal to readers of Amish and inspirational romance and fans of Charlotte Hubbard, Amy Lillard, and Emma Miller.

Esther’s distant cousin, widower Menno Eicher, needs to be hard-headed and practical. Swamped by family and farm responsibilities, he must find the perfect wife as quickly as possible, so he’s shown up in Colorado—with “finding a wife” on his To-Do list! Esther’s community has many women who could match his ever-growing requirements. Yet after a chance meeting, Menno keeps coming back to baker Joanna Yoder. Hard-working, honest, and forthright, she’s distracting Menno from his search, opening his heart—but refuses to believe he’s falling hopelessly in love with her . . .
 
Happily busy inventing and selling delicious desserts, Joanna has no time for someone as ridiculously exacting as Menno. After all, what sort of man thinks choosing a wife is like picking a pie at the general store? But once she sees the surprisingly kind heart, doting father, and understanding man beneath his hard-to-please ways, she has second thoughts. With faith and genuine love, might the few things they have in common overcome the differences between them—and prove precious enough to risk a future together?

Release date: May 21, 2024

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

Joanna Yoder climbed out of the van followed by her three sisters, Mary, Ada, and Beth. Joanna wrapped both hands around the handle of the bag that carried her half-finished quilt squares. She looked up at the sky, breathed in slowly, and savored the smell of warm spring air and freshly cut grass. A lilac bush in full bloom grew on one side of Esther Kiem’s porch. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Do you smell the lilacs?” said her schwester Mary as she shut the van door behind her.

Joanna nodded. “Hmm. Delicious.”

“Lilacs don’t smell delicious, Joanna. That’s not the right word,” Ada said.

Joanna grinned. Ada couldn’t resist correcting her schwesteren whenever she got an opportunity. Ada was the eldest schwester, and being persnickety was her favorite hobby. She rarely spared sharing her opinion about anything.

“It’s the right word if you like lilac ice cream, Ada.”

Ada wrinkled her nose. “Does anyone like lilac ice cream?”

Their driver, Cathy Larsen, came around to the passenger side of the van. “You have to have a sophisticated palette to enjoy lilac ice cream, and most people aren’t as refined as you and I, Joanna. I eat lilac ice cream while I watch PBS.”

“You like lilac ice cream, Cathy?” Beth asked, obviously not believing her.

Cathy shook her head. “I’m not fond of it, but sometimes you have to pretend if you want your friends to think you have good taste. That’s why I drink herbal tea and go to the symphony. I have to keep up appearances.”

Joanna laughed. “I don’t have to pretend. I love lilac ice cream and lilac jelly.”

Cathy pointed her finger in the air. “Mention that in casual conversation, and you’ll get invited to a lot of fancy soirees.”

Joanna laughed. “I’m not sure I want to know what a soiree is.”

Cathy waved her hand. “It’s just a party for snobby people.”

A series of squeaks and loud thuds caught their attention. With Mary leading the way, all five of them trudged to the side yard where they found Esther Kiem vigorously beating a small rag rug against the house. She didn’t see them as she lifted the rug above her head, squeaked in exertion, and brought the rug down against the brick. She’d obviously been taking her frustration out on the rug for quite some time. Sweat trickled down her face, and her breathing was heavy and ragged. Her two small children, Winnie and Junior, played on the grass not ten feet away, apparently seeing nothing strange about their mother violently slapping a rug against the wall.

“I think it’s dead,” Cathy said, just as Esther lifted the rug in the air again.

Esther flinched and turned, dropping the rug into the grass when she saw her visitors. “I lost track of time,” she said, a sheepish expression on her face. Small tufts of hair escaped from her kapp in every direction, and a thin stick of celery was tucked behind her ear. Esther always had something tucked behind her ear for safekeeping.

Joanna never knew what would be there next. To go along with the odd celery stick, three pastel quilting clips were attached to the hem of Esther’s left sleeve, and a sky-blue binkie was hooked to her finger by its handle, like a giant ring made out of plastic.

Ada reached out and brushed a piece of lint from Esther’s sleeve. “It looks like that’s not the only thing you lost.”

Esther gave Ada a defensive look. “It’s always very productive to clean my rugs when I’m mad. I kill two birds with one stone.”

“It looks like you’ve also killed the rug,” Cathy said.

Esther was the dearest woman in the world, but she had a temper and a reputation for destroying things when she got mad. She’d broken four pickleball paddles over the years, de-leafed the bushes in front of her porch, thrown apricots against the house, and dented her own mailbox with a rock. The dent was still there, even though her husband, Levi, had tried to hammer it out.

“Aendi Ada!” Winnie, Esther’s four-year-old daughter, threw out her arms and ran into Ada’s embrace. Ada was one of Winnie’s favorites.

Junior, the almost-eighteen-month-old, dropped his ball, toddled over to Joanna, and lifted his hands. Joanna hoisted Junior into her arms and gave him a big kiss on his chubby cheek. He smelled like baby shampoo and was just about the cutest baby Joanna had ever seen, with his light brown curls and coffee brown eyes that could have melted even the hardest heart.

Esther picked up her much-abused rug and gave it a little shake, as if to dislodge any remaining dirt that was still hanging on for dear life. “You didn’t come all this way to watch me clean my rugs. Let’s go in and talk about your poor grossmammi and her long-overdue quilt.”

Ada took Winnie’s hand. “Grossmammi Beulah is in excellent health. No need to worry about her.”

Esther draped the rug over her arm. “I’m mostly concerned that you schwesteren were supposed to finish her quilt last year for her hundredth birthday.”

Mary’s eyes glowed with the light of unbounded happiness. “After Clay crashed into our barn, quilt plans got derailed.”

Clay Markham, a professional baseball player, had been driving drunk and crashed his car into the Yoders’ barn a year and a half ago. It was quite extraordinary, but he and Mary had fallen in love, Clay had been baptized, and Mary and Clay were married in October. Joanna had never seen anyone as happy as Mary, unless you counted Clay, who was so happy he wore a permanent smile on his face and looked like he was floating most of the time. He hadn’t just crashed into their barn, he’d crashed into their lives, and everything had been turned upside-down and inside-out with him on the farm. He was famous, so reporters and fans and other curious people had regularly come onto their property to gawk or get an autograph or ask prying questions. It had been a disconcerting, crazy, turbulent year for all of them. In all the excitement, they had set Grossmammi’s quilt aside.

Joanna couldn’t even remember who had the original idea to make Grossmammi Beulah a sampler quilt for her hundredth birthday, but each schwester had chosen a quilt pattern several months ago. Ada was finished with her blocks. Beth hadn’t even started hers.

Beth sighed. “It’s gute Grossmammi is still alive. We have time to finish the quilt before she dies.”

Ada puckered her whole face. “What a horrible thing to say.”

Beth didn’t seem concerned that Ada was about to have a stroke. “We’re all thinking it. Grossmammi is old, but Lord willing, she’ll last until we can finish her quilt.” Beth was right, though she always had a clumsy way of saying things.

Ada was often too hard on Beth. She pinned her with an accusatory stare. “I’ve finished mine.”

Beth sniffed into the air. “Joanna isn’t finished with hers yet. I’m not the only one.”

Joanna loved all her schwesteren, but she was especially protective of Beth. “I’m not even halfway done, and like Beth said, we still have time. Grossmammi Beulah still does calisthenics every morning.”

Esther took a tissue from her apron pocket and swiped it across Winnie’s nose. “Well, we don’t have an unlimited amount of time. Let’s go in and talk about your quilt.”

Cathy set her gigantic purse on the grass. “First, I want to know if any more rugs or trees, or pots and pans are in danger. You could pull a muscle in a fit of temper, and it’s no fun walking around on crutches for six weeks. I should know. I have a bunion.”

Esther huffed out a breath. “It’s Levi’s cousin Menno.”

Cathy’s eyebrow traveled up her forehead. “I didn’t know Levi had a cousin Menno. Is he the one in danger?”

“He’s Levi’s dat’s brother’s grandson, so not a first cousin, but sadly, he and Levi are related. We got a letter from him this morning. His wife died exactly a year ago tomorrow, and he’ll be here tomorrow with his two little girls for an ‘extended visit.’ He wants Levi to find him a job and a wife and give him a bed and three meals a day.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “He wants Levi to find him a wife?”

Esther strangled the rug in her arms. “Levi has assigned that task to me.”

Ada harrumphed her disapproval. “I don’t mean to criticize Levi, but that doesn’t seem very nice.”

Esther ground her teeth together. “Levi feels bad about it, but I know a lot more about the unmarried girls in the community than he does. He says it would be inappropriate if he tried to find Menno a wife. He’d raise more than one eyebrow and be the source of gossip for years.”

Beth giggled. “He’s right about that.”

“You’re not obligated to find Menno a wife,” Joanna said. “He’s a grown man, and if he can’t find his own wife, he doesn’t deserve to have one.”

Esther’s shoulders sagged. “He put all the details in his letter. His wife has been gone exactly a year, and now the next step in his life is to find someone else to marry. Menno is very determined, very methodical, and very serious about anything he puts his mind to. He doesn’t want to waste time looking for a fraa. He wants us to make a list of all the likely candidates so he can pick a fraa quickly and get back home to plant his sugar beets.”

“I don’t wonder but the girls will line up to meet him.” Joanna connected her gaze to Mary’s, and they shared a wry smile.

Esther didn’t catch on that Joanna was teasing. “I feel sorry for him, losing his wife and all, but I’ve got three quilts to make before the Memorial Day auction, and two children of my own. Menno will expect me to watch his girls while he works and courts some poor, unsuspecting girl. I told Levi I can’t spare the time.”

“Jah,” Joanna said, righteously indignant for Esther’s sake. “Menno should find his own fraa. It’s not like plucking a can of corn off the shelf at the grocery store.”

Beth’s brow creased in confusion. “Why is he coming to Colorado to look? There are more Amish girls just about anywhere else.”

Esther slapped the rug against the house again. “Ach. He lives in Baker, Idaho, which is even smaller than Byler, and he’s coming here because Levi owes him.”

Joanna tilted her head to one side. “What does Levi owe him?”

“Menno saved Levi from drowning as a teenager. His family had gone up to visit Menno’s family in Idaho, and they went swimming, and Levi almost drowned. Menno saved his life. He pulled Levi out of the lake and even performed CPR, for goodness’ sake.”

Beth frowned. “What’s CPR?”

“It means Levi’s heart stopped, and Menno got it beating again. You can’t just shrug off something that remarkable. I should be more grateful, but all I am is irritated.” Esther puckered her lips as if she’d eaten a lemon. “And now I have to be polite and hospitable and accommodating. He’s methodical, but he says he’s not picky. He wants a mother for his girls, and he’s got one month to find someone before he has to be back in Idaho. Levi is going to let Menno work with his carpentry crew while he’s here. At least the job is settled, but the worst part is that I have nowhere to put him except in the quilt shop.”

Esther’s husband, Levi, had built a spacious addition on one side of Esther’s house where she had opened a quilt shop. The room was full of quilts, and there was a display bed in the middle of the shop where Esther spread her most expensive quilts. It was the only extra bed, and apparently, Cousin Menno was going to be sleeping in it.

Esther slumped her shoulders. “I’m sure Menno’s little girls are sweet, but they’re two and three, and they’re going to ruin my quilts.”

“Could he stay with Levi’s parents?” Ada wanted to know.

Pain traveled across Esther’s face. “I thought about it, but Nanna starts another round of chemo this week, and I just can’t ask them to take on one more thing.”

Joanna shifted Junior to one arm and wrapped the other around Esther’s shoulder. “Nanna is going to be all right. She’s tough, and she has practically the entire state of Colorado praying for her.”

Esther sniffed brusquely. “Lord willing. On top of everything, we’re having gmayna here on Sunday. It’s the first time we’ve hosted because we finally have a place big enough to hold services . . . if we move all the quilts out of the quilt shop. How am I going to clean the house and prepare for gmayna with Menno and his dochters underfoot?”

Cathy was practical and blunt. “You should tell him to go back to Idaho. I’ll tell him for you, if you like. I’ll drive him to the bus station if he pays me.”

“Much as I don’t want him here, I feel sorry for him. His wife is passed, his girls are young, and he’s overwhelmed with taking care of them.”

“He doesn’t want a wife,” Joanna mumbled. “He wants a babysitter.”

Esther glanced at Joanna. “And someone who can cook and clean”—she fingered the celery stick behind her ear—“and do all the wifely duties.”

Beth’s jaw dropped as if her tongue had swollen too big for her mouth. Mary blushed like a beet, and Ada seemed to have smoke coming out of her ears. Joanna’s throat felt scratchy like a burnt piece of toast. Ach, du lieva. Cousin Menno was shaping up to be the last man any girl in her right mind would want to marry. But Joanna knew better. There were many women willing to settle for almost any man simply because they were desperate to be married. Fortunately, she wasn’t one of them.

“The wifely duties aren’t so bad,” Mary said, turning even redder than Cathy Larsen’s shiny red jacket.

Esther cracked a smile. “Of course not.”

Joanna didn’t know anything about wifely duties, but she did know that neither she nor any of her schwesteren wanted to feel like a can of corn or a bag of flour, something random pulled off the shelf out of necessity.

“Wifely duties are wunderbarr!” Mary blurted out then clapped her hand over her mouth as if she’d just said something shocking.

Joanna grinned. She adored that Mary was so happy. Mary had experienced a lot of pain in her life, and she deserved every gute thing.

“No need to be embarrassed about that,” Cathy said. “Do you think anyone would want to get married otherwise?”

Beth pressed her hands over her ears. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”

Ada seemed just as happy as anyone to change the subject. “What are you going to do about Levi’s cousin, Esther?”

“I don’t know. I feel like a terrible person, but I don’t want him to come. On top of everything”—she paused and glanced at Cathy—“I’m going to have a baby. But don’t tell anyone yet.”

Everyone cooed and sighed and exclaimed their delight.

“When is it coming?” Ada asked.

Esther grinned and laid her hand on her stomach. “September.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I throw up in the morning and feel rotten the rest of the day. That’s why I don’t think I can even be polite to Menno. I’m a candle spent on both ends.” Esther sighed. “I have to help him. The sooner he finds a fraa, the sooner he’ll leave.” Her lips twitched upward. “I regret to inform you that three of you are eligible for my list. Only Mary is safe.”

“Thank Derr Herr,” Mary sighed.

Ada’s eyebrows inched up her forehead. “If you put me on that list, I’ll never speak to you again, Esther Kiem.”

Joanna glanced at Beth. “None of us want to go on that list.”

Beth nodded her agreement. “Who wants to marry an old man?”

Esther looked at Beth sideways. “Beth, Menno’s girls are two and three. Menno is only twenty-seven. Joanna’s age.”

Beth’s eyes flashed with amusement. “It looks like Joanna is the perfect age.”

Joanna gave Beth the stink eye. “Somebody should wash your mouth out with soap.”

Winnie kept asking to be picked up, and Ada finally lifted Winnie into her arms. “How can we help? We could make you some freezer meals for days you don’t have time to cook.”

Esther drooped with relief. “That would be wunderbarr.”

Ada motioned to the schwesteren. “We can come on Saturday and scrub the whole place down for gmayna. I’m gute with toilets.”

Esther laughed. “I’ll gladly let you do that.”

Joanna bounced Junior in her arms, even though he was almost eighteen months old and didn’t really need to be bounced anymore. “How long did you say he would be here?”

“One month or until he finds a fraa.”

Joanna glanced at Mary. “We need to do what we can to hurry that along.”

Ada liked to make assignments. “Mary, you should be the one to make a list of all the women Menno could possibly marry.”

Mary grimaced. “It doesn’t feel right to put anyone on the list. Menno isn’t truly looking for love. He seems more concerned about convenience.”

Mary was right. Joanna wouldn’t want to be put on that list without her knowledge and without knowing what Menno was really up to. “I couldn’t care a whit about helping Menno, but if we find him a fraa, it will help Esther.” In her head, Joanna counted up the single women she knew of the right age. Byler was a small place with a small Amish population. Joanna couldn’t even imagine how small Baker, Idaho, must be. “There are only six I can think of. I suppose it would be okay to make a list if we warned all the girls on the list and got their permission.”

Esther thought for a minute. “I feel gute about that.”

Junior wriggled in Joanna’s arms. She set him on his feet, and he toddled around the grass plucking dandelions out of the ground. They’d come up with a plan, but Joanna still felt very sorry for Esther. Joanna hated nausea worse than anything, and Menno and Levi expected poor Esther to care for four children and find Menno a fraa while she was afflicted with the throw-ups. It wasn’t fair, and Joanna had half a mind to give Menno a scolding when he got there. “What would you think if I come every day while Menno is at work and help you care for die kinner? You could get your quilting done, and I could help with some of the chores.”

Esther’s eyes flashed before their light dimmed. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. It’s only for a month.”

“But, Joanna,” Mary said. “What about your orders?”

Joanna ran a tiny bakery out of their house, and her potato rolls and fry pies were popular with the Amish and Englisch in the valley. She made six dozen potato rolls every week and four or five dozen fry pies. Customers came to the house every Wednesday and Saturday morning to buy her baked goods. Sometimes she did special orders, and on Friday mornings, she delivered three dozen fry pies to the bigger Amish bakery in Byler.

“I’ll just rearrange my baking schedule a bit. I can make dough at Esther’s house and come here a little late on Wednesday mornings after the customers leave.”

“I can help,” Beth said unenthusiastically. Plain and simple, Beth thought she was allergic to work, but she knew enough to volunteer so Esther wouldn’t think she was lazy.

Joanna gave Beth’s arm a squeeze. “If you help me with the fry pies on Wednesday nights and make Esther some freezer meals, that will be enough. You and Ada can help Dat with the goats and the alfalfa and keep the household running while I’m gone. It’s only four weeks.” She eyed Ada. “You’ll have to take over the goat cheese.”

Ada nodded. “You’ll have to teach me. Beth will have to help.”

Beth shrugged. “Okay.”

Cathy clapped her hands and picked up her giant purse. “Okay, now that you’ve got Esther’s problem solved, I hope we won’t see any more battered rugs or broken golf clubs in your yard.”

Joanna grinned at Esther. “You’ve broken a golf club?”

Esther blushed. “One. Clay had a whole set of clubs in the back of his truck, and I didn’t think he’d mind if I swung just one of them against the wall. I didn’t know it would be so fragile. One of those pesky reporters made me quite angry one day.”

Clay was now Amish, but he had been a pro baseball player, and when he and Mary were dating, reporters had often harassed him at Mary’s house and at Esther’s.

Surprise popped all over Mary’s face. “You broke his golf club?”

Esther chuckled. “He doesn’t need clubs anymore anyway. So no harm done.” She called to Junior. “Cum, let’s go in and find out what still needs to be done on those quilt blocks.”

“Mine are done,” Ada said. “I made nine Bachelor’s Puzzle quilt blocks.”

“Do all your corners match?” Cathy asked.

“Of course they do,” Joanna said. “Ada is meticulous.”

Cathy shuffled toward the front door, and her neon pink nylon pants made a swishing sound when she walked. “Remind me of the quilt block you’re making, Joanna. My memory is like a sieve these days.”

“I’m making nine Sugar Bowl blocks, each with a different color palette. I thought it would look cute.”

Cathy stopped short and gaped at Joanna as if she had said something very upsetting. “Wait a minute! Don’t you remember what I told Mary about the magic of quilt blocks?”

Joanna drew her brows together. “Um, no.”

“I told her that each square you make has a little magic in it.”

“The Amish don’t believe in magic,” Ada said.

Cathy shook her head impatiently. “You Amish can be so stubborn, but it doesn’t matter whether you believe or not. Do you remember the quilt square Mary chose?”

“I’m almost finished,” Mary volunteered.

Joanna’s gaze flicked between Mary and Cathy. Was she missing something important? “Um, she did the Drunkard’s Path.”

Cathy stomped her foot on the ground so hard, Joanna felt a vibration. “That’s right, and do you remember what happened after Mary chose that particular quilt block to work on?” Cathy didn’t wait for an answer. “A drunk driver crashed into your barn, and Mary ended up marrying that drunk driver. The drunkard’s path led Clay straight to Mary.”

Joanna gave Cathy a doubtful, encouraging smile. “Jah. It’s wunderbarr when Gotte brings two people together.”

Cathy rolled her eyes. “Of course it was God. And that quilt block.”

Esther bloomed into a teasing smile. “Now, Cathy, don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

Joanna agreed with Esther, but Mary was wide eyed. “It happened just like she warned me.”

Cathy counted on her fingers listing all the reasons Joanna and Esther should believe in the miracle of quilt blocks. “You have chosen the Sugar Bowl quilt block. Cousin Menno is from Baker, Idaho. You are a baker. Bakers use sugar. Sugar comes from sugar beets. Menno grows sugar beets.” Cathy was so flustered, she leaned against the house to catch her breath. “Joanna, you’re going to marry Cousin Menno, no doubt about it.”

“Let me reassure you that I will not marry Cousin Menno. He is looking for a fraa, any fraa, and I refuse to be just another can of corn.”

As Cathy pulled a fan from her large bag and waved it in front of her face, Joanna stifled a smile. It was March, and it couldn’t have been more than fifty-five degrees outside.

Cathy looked as if she were having a hot flash. “I agree that Menno is arrogant, thoughtless, and a little too sure of himself. I don’t need to meet him to know he would be a very unsuitable husband, especially if he treated you like a can of corn. You’re a sweet girl, Joanna, and I’d hate to see you stuck with tha. . .