The
Amish Candy Maker
A
letter brings him to Mackinac
County. Can one woman
make him stay?
Agnes
Zook has found herself on her own after in small Amish community in Mackinac
County after a tragedy took the life of her parents and siblings. Most of the Amish
call her “off
in den Kopf” (strange) since she’s
starting her own business and forging her own way in the community instead of
relying on the bishop to take care of her. Since she’s viewed as non-submissive
and too-forward for an Amish woman she’s not courted by other young men in the
area.
Isaac
Mast is on the verge of leaving the Amish church. He’s become a sought-after
Auctioneer and has a thriving business, but he feels confined by the strict
rules. When his brother is severely injured in a wild fire, Isaac receives a
letter from his sister-in-law, begging him to come to Mackinac County to help
out while his brother is hospitalized for skin grafts and his wife is with him.
They have young children that can’t be left alone. Isaac agrees but is unsure
how to manage the children when he has weekend auctions he’s expected to
attend. Agnes may be an answer to prayer.
When
Isaac and Agnes meet, sparks fly, but everything changes. While neither of them
fit within the structures of the Amish faith, could their differences be the
one thing that helps them form a deeper connection to their faith . . . and
each other?
Sneak Peek;
The Amish Candy Maker
By Laura V. Hilton
Chapter 1
Mackinac County, Michigan
“So then I got all confused.” Agnes Zook’s
hands waved through the air as she tried to describe what happened to her
captive, very green audience. After all, why talk with just her mouth when she
could use her whole body? “He said ‘television interview’ and my mind went
blank. Like stressed blank, not regular blank. I’m sure you’ve never had that
happen.”
The lush row of plants she nursed on the
southern windowsill of her new candy shop never got flustered. Even now, they
sat there quietly, listening to her. Except for the odd “hmmm” that followed.
“Do you think it’d work if I asked
someone to tell him I was abducted by aliens?”
“Are you on drugs?” The answer-in-a-question
came from a very male voice. Deep, rumbly, sexy. Except, her plants had never
answered her before.
The liquid in the small watering can
sloshed onto one of the tables she’d provided for customers as she swung around
to survey her empty shop. Except it wasn’t empty.
A stranger—a very handsome, very male,
Amish stranger—stood inside the doorway, a frown on his clean-shaven face.
Wisps of sandy blond hair peeked from beneath his hat.
“I didn’t hear the door chimes.” She
glanced behind him to the door—and the marked-down sleigh bells hanging from
the knob. The treasure she’d bought at a steep discount from the thrift store
were still there, but obviously were wowed into silence by the man’s unexpected
appearance, too. Otherwise she would’ve known.
She should’ve seen him approach from her
position by the window. But she hadn’t. He’d just appeared. From nowhere.
Maybe she was losing her ever-loving
mind. No one would blame her if she had, with all she’d been through. But she
wasn’t ready to give up. She would survive. Even a handsome Amish man who
appeared without warning.
The man set a suitcase on the floor by
the door, but stayed where he stood as if he doubted her sanity and his safety
from a half-crazed Amish woman.
A valid assumption, especially after she
mentioned aliens. She groaned.
Way to make a gut impression. Agnes blew
out a breath then took her watering can behind the counter and into the
kitchen. Of course, if he wasn’t real he’d vanish the same way he appeared. She
set the can on the counter, washed and dried her hands in the too-big, evil
sink that hurt her back. Her muscles twinged just thinking about it. After a
moment, she peeked back in the other room.
He was still there. He’d dared to move
closer to the glass case where she had selections of fudge and some other
candies displayed on paper doily lined trays. So he was a customer? One of only
a hundred since she opened her store at the beginning of the month.
She took a deep breath, wiped her
suddenly sweaty palms on her apron, and went behind the counter. “May I help
you?” Hopefully, she sounded professional this time and not like a raving
lunatic.
He leaned closer to the glass case—close
enough for her to see the vibrant blue of his eyes framed by the thickest
lashes she’d ever seen, let alone on a man. “Sure. I—”
“Oh my word. Your eyes are gorgeous.”
Agnes’s heart beat triple-time. Her face heated. So much for sounding
professional. Hopefully, she disguised the more-than-a-touch of envy that
worked through her.
His blue eyes narrowed, a flicker of
something in their depths. “I, uh, danki.” He shook his head. “I need to pick
up some treats for my nieces and nephew. Something to ease the transition my
appearance will cause. They don’t know me, you see. But my brother and
sister-in-law need my help.”
She didn’t ‘see’. “How could your own
family not know you?” She leaned forward on the counter.
His face darkened, the blue eyes turning
stormy gray. She stared, fascinated.
“Sam and Jenny Mast,” he mumbled.
Ach.
That
was all the explanation needed. He must be Sam’s long-lost brother, the one who
traveled the United States to work in various communities as an auctioneer in
high demand, but never visited. She looked for the family resemblance but Sam’s
face had been covered with a beard—this man’s wasn’t—and she didn’t see any.
What was this man’s name? Agnes shook her head. Nothing came to mind. Sam and
Jenny did need him, though. Sam had been badly burned in a wildfire earlier
this year and had been sent to some big hospital in Minnesota for skin grafts.
