A Place of Peace by Amy Clipston Page B

defensive.
    “Ya,
you do mope,” Edna countered. “You need to get out. You’re young. Go work with Beth Anne and her family. It’ll be
gut
for you.”
    Miriam bit her bottom lip, pondering the offer. Would going to work for Timothy’s mother be a good idea? For some unexplainable reason, she couldn’t say no.
    Glancing down, she examined her faded jeans and her peach T-shirt, caked in flour. “I have to find some appropriate frocks, along with aprons and capes. I can’t dress
English.”
    “I have frocks that will fit you,” Edna said. “You can let the hem down on a few of my dresses, and we’ll make you a few spares too. We can work on that this afternoon, and you can start tomorrow.”
    Miriam glanced at Beth Anne, who smiled.
    “It’s settled,” Beth Anne said. “You start tomorrow and work for the two weeks while you’re here. It’ll be
wunderbaar.”
She started toward the door with Jessica in tow, carrying desserts.
    “Can you be there by five?” Beth Anne asked. “That’s when we start baking.”
    “
Ya.
” Miriam inwardly groaned. She’d forgotten how early she used to get up when she lived in her father’s home.
    Miriam helped Beth Anne and Jessica to the SUV and then watched them drive off, stunned at the course of events. As of tomorrow, she’d be an employee of the Kauffman Amish Bakery, owned by the woman who’d once planned to be her mother-in-law.
    A strange excitement coursed through Miriam’s veins. She would be a member of the Kauffman’s extended family. Why did this inspire her? Her future with Timothy had been shattered the day she’d left Lancaster County.
    Could God be giving her a second chance with him?
    Miriam shook her head at the naïve notion. There was no hope for a second chance with Timothy. He’d made his choice, and Miriam had made hers.
    Yet something inside her awakened at the thought of being welcomed by his family.
    Pushing that thought aside, Miriam hurried back into the house. She had a full day of sewing ahead of her.
    Jessica dropped into the swing on her aunt Rebecca Kauffman’s porch. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she checked the time and sighed.
    “He’ll be here,” Lindsay, her younger sister, said, leaning on the doorway. “Jake has never let you down.”
    Jessica lifted her can of Diet Coke from the small table beside the swing. “You’re right. He’s kept all of his promises, and he’s the only man who’s ever done that for me, aside from Dad.”
    “That’s true.” Lindsay leaned on the porch railing. “Can you believe Mom and Dad have been gone over a year now?”
    Jessica absently fingered her mother’s wedding ring, hanging on a chain around her neck. “It’s gone by so quickly, hasn’t it? It seems like only yesterday we moved in here. So much has happened.”
    Lindsay gave a bleak smile. “I miss you.”
    Jessica crossed her legs. “I miss you too. It feels weird not having a little sister to argue with. Aunt Trish’s house is too quiet.” She studied her sister’s plain purple dress, black apron, and prayer
kapp.
“Don’t you get hot in all those clothes?”
    Lindsay shrugged. “I’m used to it.” She nodded toward Jessica’s legs. “I think it would feel weird to wear jeans again. I’m used to dresses and aprons.”
    “Do you get headaches having your hair plastered to your head in a bun?”
    Lindsay snickered. “No. Like I said, I’m used to it.”
    Jessica shook her head. “It’s beyond me why you would want to wear that stuff. Don’t you want to be a normal fifteen-year-old and listen to alternative music and go to the movies and the mall? You know, Aunt Rebecca wouldn’t love you any less if you weren’t Amish. You don’t need to feel pressured to fit in here.”
    “I don’t feel pressured, Jessica. I only feel pressured by you because you keep telling me that I don’t need to be Amish. I’m comfortable here. I feel like a Kauffman.”
    “I’m just saying—”
    “Let’s not