His New Amish Family. Patricia Davids

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СКАЧАТЬ few chickens, three buggy horses and a cow with a calf are the only livestock. A neighbor has them for now. The rest is a lot of junk. My uncle rarely let go of anything.”

      Paul tried not to get his hopes up. “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure. I’ll need to look the place over.”

      “I can drive you there now.”

      This was too good an opportunity to pass up. To handle an entire farm and household sale could bring him a hefty commission. Enough to pay back Mark and the bank loan plus get his business off to a good start. “Who owned the farm before you?”

      “My uncle, Eli King.”

      “I think I know the place. Out on Cedar Road just after the turn off to Middleton?”

      “That’s right.”

      Paul had gone there last year with his cousin Luke looking for parts to fix an ancient washing machine. Ralph was right about his uncle collecting things but not all of it was junk. There were some valuable items stashed away. “Let me tell my uncle where I’m going and I’ll be right with you.”

      “Great.” The man looked relieved and walked back to his car.

      Paul found his uncle, his cousin Samuel and Mark all conferring in the front office. Paul tipped his head toward the parking lot. “That Englisch fellow wants to show me a farm he plans to put up for auction. Can you spare me for a few hours?”

      The men looked up from reviewing the day’s work schedule. “Can we?” Isaac asked.

      Samuel flipped to the last page on the clipboard he held. “It’s not like he does much work when he is here.”

      Mark and Isaac chuckled. Paul smiled, too, not offended in the least. “Very funny, cousin. I do twice the amount of work my brother does these days. Mark spends more time at the bakery than he does here.”

      Mark’s grin turned to a frown. Isaac patted his shoulder. “That is to be expected when he and his new wife are getting their own business up and running.”

      “That’s right,” Mark said, looking mollified. “It takes a lot of thought to decide which type of ovens we need and where they should be placed, what kind of storage we need—a hundred decisions have to be made.”

      Isaac’s wife, Anna, ran a small gift shop across the parking lot from the woodworking building. Mark’s wife, Helen, had been selling her baked goods in the shop and at local farmers markets but the increasing demand for her tasty treats and breads made opening a bakery the next logical step for them.

      A month ago, the church community held a frolic to help Mark and Helen finish building their bakery next to the gift shop. The couple would live above the bakery until they could afford to build a new home. They were currently living with Helen’s aunt, Charlotte Zook, but her home was several miles away, making it impractical to stay there once their business was up and running.

      “When is the grand opening?” Isaac asked.

      “The dual ovens we want are back-ordered. We can’t set a date until they are paid for and installed.” Mark gave Paul a pointed look. It was a reminder that he needed his money back soon.

      Paul winked at his brother. “Mark’s interest isn’t in the new ovens. Sneaking a kiss from his new bride is what keeps him running over there.”

      Mark blushed bright red and everyone laughed.

      Paul turned to Isaac for an answer. “Can you spare me today? I’m trying to get my own business up and running, too.”

      Isaac nodded. “We will do without you. Any idea when you’ll be back?”

      “I can’t say for sure.” He opened the door and saw his cousin Joshua and Joshua’s wife, Mary, coming across from the gift shop. Mary carried her infant son balanced on her hip. The happy, chubby boy was trying to catch the ribbon of her kapp with one hand and stuff it in his mouth with little success.

      Mary called out, “Guder mariye, Paul. Is Samuel around?”

      “Good morning, Mary. He’s inside.”

      “Goot, I need to speak to him. Don’t forget about Nicky’s birthday party two weeks from Saturday. You can bring a date if you like.”

      “I won’t forget and I won’t bring a date. Meet the family. Bounce the cute baby. That would be a sure way to give a woman the wrong impression,” he called over his shoulder.

      “You can’t stay single forever,” Mary shouted after him.

      “I can try.” He hurried toward Ralph Hobson’s car. He didn’t want to keep a potentially profitable client waiting.

      On the twenty-minute ride, Paul did all the talking as he outlined the details of the auction contract and his responsibilities, including advertising and inventory, sorting the goods and cleaning up after the sale. Hobson listened and didn’t say much.

      Paul hoped the man understood what he was agreeing to. “I’ll send you a printed copy of all I’ve told you if you agree to hire me. A handshake will be enough to seal the deal.”

      “Fine, fine. Whatever.” The man took one hand off the wheel and held it out.

      Paul shook it. He was hired. It was hard to contain his joy and keep the smile off his face.

      When Ralph turned into the lane of a neat Amish farmyard, Paul noticed a white car parked off to the side of the drive. Ralph stopped beside it. A middle-aged man in a white cowboy hat got out. He tossed a cigarette butt to the ground and came around to the driver’s side. Ralph rolled down his window.

      “Good morning, sir. My name is Jeffrey Jones. Are you the owner of this property?”

      “I am,” Ralph said.

      “I understand this farm is for sale. I’d like to take a look at the property and maybe make an offer on it.”

      Ralph frowned. “Where did you hear it was for sale?”

      The man shrugged and smiled. “Word gets around in a small community like this.”

      Ralph shook his head. “Your information isn’t quite accurate. There will be a farm auction in the near future.”

      “Ah, that’s a risky way to get rid of the place. You should at least hear my offer. You’ve got no guarantee that an auction will top it.”

      “I’ll take my chances,” Ralph said. “Keep an eye out for the date of the sale. You might get it for less.”

      Mr. Jones stepped back from the vehicle. “Do the mineral rights go with the farmland or are they separate?”

      “I’m not selling the mineral rights.”

      “Smart man. I imagine leasing those rights to the local coal mine will bring you a tidy sum for many years. My offer for the farm expires when I get in my car. No one is going to want this place except maybe a poor Amish farmer. You’ll have trouble getting a decent price.”

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