Assaulted Pretzel (2 page)

“
Back off?
Did you just tell me to back off?”

Uh-oh…

Claire threw back her comforter and swung her feet over the edge of her bed. People like the Grandersons and the Joneses came to Heavenly, Pennsylvania, for the peace and tranquility synonymous with the picturesque Amish town. Awaking to a veritable knock-down, drag-out fight wasn’t supposed to be part of the experience.

Wiggling her feet into her slippers, Claire stood and made her way over to her door, a host of potential argument-busters flitting through her thoughts. She could knock on their door and ask them to keep it down or she could be more subtle…

“What is it with you, Rob? What do you find so fascinating about these people? Why are you trying to be their white knight?”

Slowly, Claire opened her door to reveal the softly lit hallway that traversed the second story of Heavenly’s premier bed-and-breakfast. Here, the wooden floors were polished to a warm glow and the walls were lined with period sconces that cast a magical aura across the narrow footway.

“I…I’m not trying to be anyone’s white knight!”

“Oh no? Then think like the businessman you’ve always been and send out this memo.”

“And if I don’t?” Rob hissed.

“If you don’t send it out, I will.”

“Ann, I swear, if you send that memo, I’ll…I’ll—”

“You’ll what, Rob? Yell? Stamp your feet? Puh-lease. You and I both know you’re not the one who’s in a position to hurl a threat.
I
am.”

Claire took two steps forward and coughed—once, twice. And, just as she’d hoped, the arguing ceased in favor of the kind of quiet that would have had her eyes rolling back in her head by now over the perfection that was Ruth Miller’s Shoo Fly Pie.

Figures…

But maybe, if she was really lucky, she could drift right back to sleep and into the same magical dream that still had her stomach rumbling with hunger despite the full-blown turkey dinner she’d eaten mere hours before bed.

Yup. It was official. She was hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless.

Shaking her head in self-disgust, Claire pivoted back toward her room only to freeze, midway, as she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.

Curious to see who else had been roused from their dreams by the Karbles’ heated argument, she turned in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of Melinda Simon just before the door to Room Three clicked shut, the hint of a smile on the statuesque blonde’s face sending an inexplicable shiver down Claire’s spine.

O
ne look at the dark circles under her aunt’s eyes and Claire knew she and Melinda hadn’t been the only ones roused from sleep in the wee hours of the morning. Even so, a quick check in the mirror before she’d headed down the stairs to help with breakfast hadn’t yielded the kind of tension evident in the sixtysomething’s face and stance.

Diane was upset. Or, at the very least, concerned. Either way, Claire hated seeing her aunt being anything other than her normal sunshiny self.

Desperate for a way to fix things, Claire stopped beside the basket of fresh-from-the-oven blueberry muffins and inhaled deeply, willing the effects of their mouthwatering aroma to work their way into her yawn-infused voice. “If I hadn’t been so excited about today, I’m sure I would have slept through the noise, Aunt Diane. Truly.”

Diane set the ceramic butter crock on the counter beside
the muffins and dropped onto a nearby stool, releasing a weary sigh as she did. “That’s sweet of you to say, dear, but, considering Mrs. Granderson was ruminating about the ruckus with the new bride across the hall this morning, you’d have been the only one, dear.”

So much for wishful thinking…

She pulled a second stool from beneath the counter and sank onto its cheerfully upholstered cushion, her hands quickly giving way to the temptation that was her aunt’s baking. “I know my only experience with the Karbles was at dinner last night, but they didn’t strike me as the type to fight like that, you know?”

Diane’s bifocals slipped down the bridge of her nose only to be pushed into place with a defiant shove. “It was a disagreement, not a fight. I just wish they could have had it at a different time and in a different place. I mean, they have so much to be excited about right now…” With a wave of a hand, her father’s oldest sister returned to her feet and the quietly efficient pace that was as much a part of her makeup as the gray-streaked hair and heart-shaped face. “But it’s over now and that’s all that matters, right?”

Claire took a bite of muffin and considered her aunt’s words. “Do you think there’s any chance we’ll see a resurrection of the argument over breakfast?”

“Since the two of them headed out of here about twenty minutes ago, I’ll say no. And with the reception they’re sure to get in town today, I think everything will be fine by the time they return.”

She took a second bite, glancing at the clock on the microwave as she did. “At least they left together, right? That has to be a good sign.”

Diane breezed around the kitchen, gathering the necessary
plates and cups needed to serve a hearty breakfast for five of Sleep Heavenly’s seven registered guests. “Actually, they headed in separate directions—Mrs. Karble for her morning run, and Mr. Karble toward parts unknown with a notebook in one hand and a camera in the other. But they did kiss before they left so I’ll take
that
as the good sign.”

Popping the last of her muffin into her mouth, Claire stepped off her own stool and grabbed the necessary silverware and napkins to round out her aunt’s place settings. “Do you think there’s any way I could wiggle my nose and have us skip over breakfast and go straight to the festival?”

Bingo!
The smile she’d been waiting to see since she walked in the room finally spread its way across Diane’s plump lips followed by the face-lighting sparkle that Claire equated with some of the best parts of her childhood. “If I thought that would work, dear, I’d be wiggling along with you. And
I
actually know what’s in store.
You’ve
only heard whisperings.” Diane pushed her way through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room with Claire hot on her heels. “All that is good about living in Heavenly will be on display in a twenty-booth radius today.
With
food.”

Claire felt the excitement welling up inside as she headed around the table in the opposite direction of her aunt, stopping in front of each empty chair to fold a napkin and arrange the inn’s best silver in preparation for the morning meal. “Esther is dying for me to try something called Schnitz and Knepp. She says I’m going to love it.”

Diane stopped midstep and closed her eyes, a peaceful expression playing across her face. “Mmmm. And she’s right. You will.”

Taking the remaining stack of plates from her aunt’s
hands, Claire made her way back around the table, depositing one at each spot as she went. “What is Schnitz and Knepp, exactly?”

The woman padded back into the kitchen only to return with a platter of her famous French toast and a gravy boat filled to the brim with maple syrup. “
Schnitz
is the Pennsylvania Dutch word for dried apple slices. For that particular dish, it’s cooked with pieces of ham.
Knepp
is a kind of round bread dumpling. A thick sauce is part of the mix and, well, it’s delightful.”

The answering rumble of her stomach was quickly drowned out by her aunt’s warm welcome to each of the guests as they emerged through the open doorway on the far side of the room. It was nine thirty and time to focus their attention on the couples who had chosen to make Sleep Heavenly a part of their visit to the heart of Amish country. Some, like the Grandersons, had been to Heavenly before, their reservation at Diane’s bed-and-breakfast as much a given each year as any holiday ever was. Others, like the honeymoon couple who gazed into each other’s eyes as they claimed their spot at the large mahogany table, were there for the first time, blissfully unaware of the power the simple town and its people was about to wield on their hearts.

But Claire knew. Because while she hadn’t been part of a couple when she arrived in Heavenly eight months earlier—quite the contrary, in fact—she, too, had been unprepared for the lasting impact Heavenly, Pennsylvania, would have on her life.

Still smarting from the breakup of her five-year marriage to Peter, Claire had come to Heavenly at Diane’s urging. Within weeks she knew she’d found her new home—a place where the simplicity she’d always craved was not only at her
doorstep but knocking at her heart as well. Less than six months later, she signed on the dotted line of a rental agreement that allowed her to open her very own gift shop—Heavenly Treasures—and become a true member of the community that had unknowingly given her back the gift of hope.

She’d found it in Diane’s quiet and steadfast support.

She’d found it in the warmth of her new Amish friends—Esther King and Eli Miller.

She’d found it in the joy of starting fresh on little more than a dream.

She’d found it in the courage Jakob Fisher displayed every day in his decision to return to a town where his Amish roots would forever impact his work as the local police detective.

And she’d found it in the unexpected friendship she’d forged with Eli’s older brother, Benjamin.

Yes, her aunt was right. Whatever had sparked the disagreement between the Karbles during the night was sure to be erased the moment they ventured into town. Heavenly just had a way of doing that for people…

“Was everything okay last night, Ms. Weatherly?”

Claire shook the fog from her thoughts and forced her focus onto the woman standing over Virginia Granderson with a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice. Somehow, someway, the tension that had hovered around her aunt like a can’t-miss storm cloud only twenty minutes earlier was gone, in its place the sunny smile and encouraging words that were synonymous with Diane Weatherly.

“Everything was fine, Virginia. Just a difference of opinion like so many of us have from time to time.” Diane filled the elderly woman’s glass and then stepped to her right. “Miss Simon, did you have a good rest?”

Melinda Simon, the one mate-less guest at the table, leaned to the side to afford Diane an unobstructed path to her glass. “Actually, that was the first uninterrupted eight hours of sleep I’ve had in weeks.”

Claire drew back. Eight hours? There was no way…

Pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, Melinda took a moment to look around at each guest before training her light blue eyes on Claire and Diane. “I guess it’s what my dad always said—a vacation, whether working or otherwise, is good for the soul.”

“So is marrying one’s mate,” Doug Jones said before linking hands with his new bride, Kayla.

“That, I’ll have to take your word on,” Melinda joked. “For now, though, I’ll just be happy with the sleep.”

For a moment, Claire considered questioning the young executive on her claim, but, in the end, she let it go. After all, what difference did it make whether the woman admitted to hovering in the doorway while her boss and his wife engaged in a verbal battle on the other side of the hall? Maybe Melinda didn’t want to get involved in her boss’s personal life. Maybe embarrassment was at work. Either way, it really wasn’t any of Claire’s concern.

“So is everyone heading over to the Amish Food Festival this afternoon?” Diane asked before swapping the pitcher of juice for the coffeepot in Claire’s hands. At the collection of nods her inquiry yielded, the innkeeper continued. “The festival is always a highlight for our town, but this year I suspect it will be better than ever with all the celebrating.”

Claire set the orange juice down on the serving table and retrieved the sugar and creamer. Following behind her aunt, she stopped beside each freshly poured cup of coffee and added the desired ingredients, her curiosity suddenly in overdrive. “Celebrating?”

Diane filled the last upturned mug and placed the pot on the end of the table, her excitement palpable. “Miss Simon? Would you like to share the news?”

Melinda paused her fork above her plate and studied Diane intently, the young woman’s confusion evident in everything from her scrunched eyebrows to her narrowed eyes. “News? What news?”

“About Karble Toys’ new Amish line.”

Claire looked from Melinda to Diane and back again, her aunt’s words catching her by surprise. “You’re making an Amish toy line?”

Before Melinda could answer, Doug released his wife’s hand and sat up tall. “Are there even enough Amish kids in this country to make a line like that viable for a company as big as Karble?” he asked. “I mean, I’m all about inclusion and everything but isn’t that a bit of a risk from a business standpoint?”

“It’s not for Amish kids.” Melinda set her fork down on her plate and pushed her chair back from the table. “It’s for regular kids. And for the parents of those same kids who are tired of all the passive playing that comes from today’s electronic world. It’s a way for them to introduce their kids to the basics from their own childhood. Which is why I named it the Back to Basics toy line.”