An Amish Arrangement. Jo Ann BrownЧитать онлайн книгу.

       Chapter Two

      Jeremiah had to select his words with care. He didn’t know if he’d be allowed to close on the farm as scheduled. He’d never heard of a person dying before property was transferred, because in Paradise Springs most farms were handed down from one generation to the next.

      As Mercy said Rudy had meant to do with this farm. He’d changed his mind, but why?

      Until he spoke with Kitty Vasic, his Realtor, and got her advice, he didn’t know what the outcome of this sticky situation would be. Mercy wasn’t going to back down. That much was clear. If their situations were reversed, he suspected he’d be as unwilling to compromise. He was unwilling to compromise.

      There wasn’t room to. Either the farm was going to be his...or it wasn’t.

      “It’s late,” he said when he realized Mercy was waiting for him to say something. “I doubt Kitty’s office is open. Do you know anyone nearby who has a phone I could use?”

      As if in answer to him, a faint ringing came from beyond the living room. He glanced at Mercy and saw she was as surprised as he was at the unexpected sound.

      “Phone!” called Sunni. “I’ll get it.”

      “No! I’ll get it.” Mercy spun on her heel and ran toward the sound.

      Jeremiah followed, too curious to wait. He paid no attention to the large living room as he went after Mercy through what looked like a storage room and then into a bedroom. It was draped in shadows, but a single greenish light glared off to one side.

      Mercy grabbed the cordless phone and jabbed at a button. Holding it to her ear, she asked, “Hello?”

      The faint buzz of a voice reached him, but he couldn’t discern words. His eyes widened when she held the phone out to him.

      “It’s for you,” she said.

      “For me?”

      “Yes, unless you know another Jeremiah Stoltzfus.”

      He knew three others in Paradise Springs alone. Taking the phone, he said, “This is Jeremiah Stoltzfus.”

      “Hi, Jeremiah,” replied a strained female voice. “This is Kitty Vasic. I know Rudy invited you to the farm, so I thought I’d catch you there. We need to talk. Rudy Bamberger is dead.”

      “Ja, I know.” He glanced toward Mercy, but she’d gone to stand by a window. Talking about this was uncomfortable. For him, the farm and his future were at stake, but she’d lost her grossdawdi. He didn’t like the idea of losing his opportunity to buy this farm, but he also disliked the idea of taking Mercy’s home.

      “I’ve got something tonight I can’t get out of,” Kitty said. “How about I come over tomorrow afternoon?”

      “Tomorrow afternoon should be fine.” What else could he say?

      “Good. I’ll meet you at the farm around one.”

      He thanked her. Tilting the phone toward the faint light coming through the window, he found the button to end the call. He set it in its holder. It chirped once, and then its glow faded.

      “That was my Realtor,” Jeremiah said. “She’s coming over tomorrow afternoon around one to discuss what happens next.”

      A soft click sounded in the room before a lamp came on by the side of a bed with a headboard taller than he was. It was carved with a great tree filled with birds and other beasts gathered below it. He realized the lamp must have been connected to a timer.

      “I can make myself scarce,” Mercy replied.

      He shook his head. “Don’t. You should be here so you can ask Kitty your questions. In fact, you should contact the Realtor your grossdawdi used and have him here.”

      “I have no idea who that is.”

      “His name is on the paperwork I signed. Why don’t I get it? It might have his phone number. You can call him and get him here, too.”

      She rubbed her hands together. “Thank you, Jeremiah. You’re being nice about this.”

      “Me? You didn’t throw me out on my ear when I barged in.”

      When she smiled, it was as if another dozen lights had turned on. “I couldn’t throw you out after you saved me from my own foolishness.”

      The pleasant warmth buzzed through him again as his gaze connected with hers. He looked away. Until he knew what was going to happen with the farm, he needed to keep his distance.

      Turning on his heel, he went to where he’d left his bags. He’d get the information she needed and then...

      And then what?

      Tell her he’d planned to stay here tonight? He couldn’t insist Mercy and her little girl find another place tonight. He wasn’t sure what, under the circumstances, would happen if he left the property before the disposition of the farm was decided. Possession being nine-tenths of the law...or something like that.

      He paused as he saw an overhead photo of the farm. His gaze riveted on the tenant house. It was the answer to tonight’s impasse.

      Digging among the stack of legal forms, he found the purchase agreement. He paged through it to find Rudy’s Realtor’s name and contact information. There! He pulled a pencil out of his pocket along with the small notebook that he kept handy to take notes when someone ordered a piece of furniture. Though he planned to concentrate on farming, he knew he’d be doing woodworking on the side until he could get his first crop harvested. His hand tools and small power tools were on their way to Harmony Creek. As he wrote the name and number of Rudy’s Realtor, he hoped he wouldn’t have to ship those heavy crates back unopened.

      He handed the information to Mercy, who nodded her thanks. Returning the papers in the envelope, he dropped it into the open bag. He drew the strings to close it and looked at Mercy. She was as serious as a sinner confessing in front of the Leit. Maybe it was for the best she didn’t smile again. He was too fascinated by the high arch of her cheekbones and her dark eyes.

      “It’s getting late,” he said. “We’re not going to settle this tonight. It makes sense for you and your little girl to stay here. I’ll sleep in the tenant house.”

      Her eyes widened. “That’s very kind, Jeremiah, but I’m not sure there’s heat in the tenant house.”

      “I can figure out something.” He glanced around the room. “Do you have blankets?”

      “There are plenty upstairs. Help yourself.” After she’d given him directions to the linen closet and he started for the stairs in the narrow space behind the door, she added, “Be careful. Like I told Sunni, the floors aren’t as sturdy as they should be.”

      “I’ll take my cue from her and test the floors before I step on them.” He hurried upstairs before his grin popped out and betrayed how pleased he was to have an excuse to see more of the house he hoped would become his.

      A pulse of guilt coursed through him, hot and powerful. The farm belonged to Mercy’s family, and he’d be upset if someone came along and insisted his brother surrender his claim on