Harlequin Love Inspired March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Patrice Lewis (best large ereader .txt) 📕

to do.” He thought for a moment, then said, “Are you comfortable driving yourself to the doctor? Maggie the horse, she’s well trained and easy to handle.”

“Ja, sure, I’ve driven a buggy a fair bit. I’ll take her in myself.”

Jane gave herself plenty of time to get to the hospital for Mercy’s checkup. Levy was right: the horse was easy to guide. In the hospital parking lot, she hitched Maggie under the shade of a large tree at a rail set up for the town’s Amish population. She slipped Mercy into the sling, took the diaper bag and went into the hospital.

Dr. Forster was delighted to see the baby. “You’ll be happy to know all the tests came back negative,” he told her as he laid the infant on a padded table and examined her. “We may never know what spiked that fever, but I can’t tell you how glad I am to see her looking so healthy. No more issues?”

“No. None.” Jane related the week’s events.

The doctor picked up the infant and cuddled her for a moment, then handed her to Jane. “This baby is lucky to have you caring for her, Miss Troyer. Keep on doing the excellent job you’re doing.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Jane slipped the baby into the sling. Then she shook the doctor’s hand and made her way out of the hospital.

* * *

In the midst of processing the fruit for jam the next day, Jane heard a knock at the door. She wiped away sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and felt a moment’s annoyance. She didn’t look her best and she was in the middle of a messy project. The propane cookstove was laden with large pots of water heating toward a boil, and one huge pot in which she was stirring crushed berries. She sighed, washed her hands and went to answer the door.

“Guder nammidaag!” sang her friends Sarah and Rhoda when Jane opened the door. “We’ve brought company!”

“Come in, come in!” Jane spoke with cheer, but her heart sank when she saw the other visitor was Charles, the young man who had paid her such attention at the singing. “I’m in the middle of canning jam, so let’s visit in the kitchen.”

Jane was able to conjure up a plate of cookies. The baby woke up, and soon enough she was being passed around by the young women. Little Mercy smiled with all the attention.

Charles didn’t say much, but his eyes followed Jane’s every move as she stirred the mashed raspberries on the propane stove and added the sugar and lemon juice. Jane was conscious of his interest, his scrutiny, his flattering attention. Yet after all she’d been through with Mercy in the hospital and then ramping up making items to sell at the farmer’s market, he seemed to pale in comparison to Levy’s constant industry and hardheaded common sense.

“We haven’t seen you for the last few days,” Rhoda said.

“It’s been so busy here. It’s the height of the berry season and work has been nonstop.”

“Where’s Levy now?” asked Sarah.

“Berry picking,” Jane replied. “He’s getting the last of the raspberries, but their season is mostly over. Now the blueberries are starting to peak, and he has a lot of blueberry bushes. He’s also selling a lot of the fruit fresh. You know Mercy had to spend a night in the hospital, ja? It put Levy behind schedule, so we’ve both been working twice as hard to make things to sell at the farmer’s market.”

“Do you go too?” inquired Charles. “To the farmer’s market, that is?”

“Ja.” Jane smiled at the young man. He was nice-looking but seemed boyish in comparison to Levy. “I don’t really do any of the selling, but it’s helpful to have another pair of hands. And do you know what Levy did?” She gestured toward the kettle of boiling fruit. “He made a sign saying ‘Meet the Expert Jam-Maker in Person!’ that he hangs when he puts the jam out for sale. I’ve learned a lot of Englisch don’t make their own jam, and I get so many people asking questions.”

Sarah and Rhoda chuckled at the story. But Charles, she noted, had to force his smile. She nodded to herself. Gut. He understood the subtle innuendo and unspoken nuance of the tale, and picked up the message that she, Jane, was tied up with Levy’s business plans and therefore not available as a romantic interest. She felt a little bad, but she didn’t want him harboring any thoughts she wasn’t interested in sharing.

Besides, there were lots of other girls in the youngie group. Prettier girls. Jane knew she only stood out because she was new in the community, but she had no illusion about her looks and knew Charles could get any number of other young women to return his affection.

The pot on the stove boiled, and Jane stirred in the rest of the sugar and kept stirring for about a minute before she removed the pot from the heat and skimmed off the foam. She set out the pint jars she’d sterilized earlier and began filling them with a wide-mouth funnel while the group chattered behind her.

“Ah, that’s the hardest part of the jam done.” She wiped sweat from her forehead and lifted the lid off the pots of water to check the temperature. She capped the jam and lifted the jars into the pots.

“How many pints of jam do you hope to make?” inquired Sarah.

“As many as we have raspberries for,” Jane replied. She replaced the lids on the pots and dropped onto a kitchen chair with a sigh. “I’ll repeat this process tomorrow with whatever berries have ripened. Ach, I’m tired. It’s such a busy season for Levy, and now I understand why.”

“I suppose we should leave you to your work then.” Rhoda finished eating the last of her cookie.

“I’m glad you visited.” Jane spoke the truth. She liked Sarah and Rhoda, and it was good to clear the air with Charles. “I don’t know how