Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Amish Nanny’s Promise by Amy Grochowski
Chapter One
Sarai Peachy’s grandmother sat at the kitchen table with a ledger in front of her. She squinted at the small print, a pen in hand.
“You don’t have to do that, Mammi,” Sarai said. “I can take care of it.”
“It’s all right, dear,” Mammi Ellen replied. “We’re getting more customers now with your hens. We’ve got Englisher orders coming in faster than we can fill them. That’s a blessing, you know.”
Blessings often come dressed like hard work. That was what her late Dawdie Jacob used to say, and Sarai smiled at the memory. There was a sign at the road that read Peachy Eggs—Marans, Easter Eggers, Ameraucanas, Light Sussex, Olive Eggers. Inquire at the house. A sign at the road was enough to bring in customers so far, and word of mouth had spread the news of their colorful, organic, free-range eggs.
In fact, Sarai’s cousin Katie had been asking Sarai’s advice on how to grow her own flock of hens that would produce such varied eggs as well, and in the last few letters they’d exchanged, Katie had come up with an idea. Sarai’s Aunt Lovie and Uncle Jonah in Shipshewana were opening their home to tour groups and giving buggy rides. Katie was selling eggs and offering tours of the coops. They were finding more success than they’d imagined, and they needed someone to help out with running the place. Why not Sarai? Katie asked.
It was an intriguing offer. It would use Sarai’s skills as well as put her in a new community to meet available young men... Except, she was staying with Mammi Ellen because Mammi needed the help more urgently. Mammi loved her house, and she couldn’t take care of it alone anymore. If Sarai went to Aunt Lovie and Uncle Jonah’s house, Mammi would never be able to continue on her own. She’d have to move in with family somewhere, and it would break her heart. Although, an idea had started to stir...
“We have three more people on our waiting list for regular orders,” Mammi Ellen said. “You’ve really gotten this egg business off the ground, dear girl.”
Sarai Peachy stood at the counter, placing the afternoon’s freshly washed eggs into cartons. She’d been raising a variety of different hens ever since she was a girl, and she now had a flock of birds that were not only good layers but also produced a beautiful array of different-colored eggs, from creamy white to blue, green, speckled and even a coppery brown. She’d found that eggs sold best when arranged with complementary colors in the cartons—copper and dark green together, for example, or pale blue, mint-green and brown-speckled eggs in another carton.
Sarai looked out the kitchen window, and she spotted their elderly neighbor, Moe, on his way over. He walked with a stick, his wiry white hair jutting out from under his hat. A young man followed a few paces behind, and Sarai paused in her work and squinted.
“Moe is on his way over,” Sarai said. “He’s almost at the garden.”
“Oh, good,” Mammi Ellen replied, and her fingers fluttered up to her hair, tucking a couple of invisible strands back under her neat kapp. “I’d asked him to come for some pie this afternoon.”
Mammi Ellen and Moe made their own plans, and as often as not, Sarai would return from an errand to find the couple sitting in the kitchen together, chatting happily about old times or working on some chore together—two being much more efficient than one. A few times, Sarai had gone out for the day and come home to find large chores completed by the two old people together. On their own, they struggled. But together, they were still able to get things done. That had been the beginning of Sarai’s idea of how to make sure her grandmother would be cared for, happy and not even the faintest bit lonely if Sarai spread her wings.
“He’s got someone with him today,” Sarai replied, watching the old man and the younger one loping along beside to catch up. He was tall and had broad shoulders, but his head was down so she couldn’t see his face under the brim of his straw hat.
“That would be Arden,” Mammi said.
Sarai leaned closer to the window to get a better look. Moe’s grandson Arden had moved from the community of Redemption, Pennsylvania, to Ohio a few years ago with his family. The last time she’d seen Arden, he was about eighteen and breaking hearts all over the community. He’d always been too handsome for his own good...or the good of half the girls his age.
But Arden wasn’t her worry, and Sarai had bigger eggs to fry, as she liked to say.
“I don’t know why you and Moe don’t get married,” Sarai said, casting her grandmother a smile. “You get along so well.”
“Friends tend to get along,” Mammi Ellen said with a chuckle. “Are you still on that idea, Sarai? I’m not looking to get married again, dear. I have great-grandchildren, white hair and arthritis. I’ve lived my life. If you want to worry about a wedding, make it your own.”
“Setting people up is a far sight easier than finding a husband myself,” Sarai replied. “Besides, Adel Knussli is keeping me in mind for her matchmaking efforts. So you don’t need to worry about me.”
And Shipshewana would have all sorts of people she’d never met.
“Keeping you in mind is different than rolling up her sleeves and making you her central effort,” her grandmother replied. “You might think about asking Adel to do just that. You’re a beautiful girl, you’re smart, and you have good character. You’ll make any man a lovely wife.”
“Any man...” Sarai shook her head. “He’ll have to be the right one, Mammi.”
Because Sarai had a theory—and it was only a theory—but she didn’t want to waste fifty to seventy years of her life with a man who Gott hadn’t created for her especially. There were couples who seemed to be so perfectly matched that she had no doubt that Gott had placed them together like two puzzle pieces. And then there were others who were less well matched and much less happy together. If Sarai was going to vow the rest of her life to a man, then she wanted Gott’s perfect will—the one right man. And who knew where Gott had him waiting?
“There is such a thing as being too careful, Sarai,” Mammi Ellen said.
“Aha!” Sarai said with a laugh. “I could say the same to you, Mammi. My husband will come along in due time, but I really think there is something special there between you and Moe. My mamm agrees with me, you know. So it isn’t only me who sees it.”
“Oh, Sarai,” she said and chuckled.
“You have lots of life left in you, Mammi,” Sarai said. “And I see the way you brighten up when Moe is on his way over. You both do. Moe is a happier man when he’s in your company.”
“I can be positively delightful without marrying him,” her grandmother replied. “And why do you assume that he wants anything else from me besides a piece of pie and a listening ear?”
