Amish Mystery at Rose Cottage Read online

  Amish Mystery At Rose Cottage

  Ettie Smith Amish Mysteries Book 16

  Samantha Price

  Copyright © 2018 by Samantha Price

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The personal names have been invented by the author, and any likeness to the name of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  ETTIE SMITH AMISH MYSTERIES

  About Samantha Price

  Chapter 1

  Nell Graber looked out her second-floor bedroom window at her oldest son, John. He was walking beside the men carrying his father’s coffin into the house. Soon the place would be full of people for the customary viewing.

  The gentle rain falling drew Nell back to years gone by. The rain always reminded her of Jedidiah. How odd it would rain today of all days since they’d had none for weeks. It was as though the Lord had held back the rain and was sending her the message that Jedidiah was safe. Was Jedidiah by His side, along with her beloved Abraham?

  As any sensible and faithful woman would do, Nell pushed Jedidiah from her mind. Today was about Abraham, the man she’d spent over forty years with, and had five kinner with. It wasn’t a day to ponder a lost love, but nearly anything could bring Jedidiah to mind. Today it was the rain, other times it was hearing a word he’d been fond of, or seeing a certain expression on someone’s face. The lift of an eyebrow, or the just-so tilt of a head.

  Gazing up at the gray clouds stretching across the early morning sky, Nell thanked God for nearly a lifetime with Abraham. It was a blessing Gott had snatched him away in his sleep, saving him from a slow and painful death. He had so many health issues that Nell had despaired when she’d thought about the future. In their early marriage Abraham had rarely been sick and he wasn’t a person who did well in a sickbed. He was truly happy in the fields with the sun on his back and his hand to the plow, smelling the dirt and watching the crops grow. If he’d lived longer, his throat cancer along with his liver cancer would’ve had him confined to the house, or his bed. She shuddered at the thought. Even though she’d miss him, she was pleased he'd been spared the suffering of slowly fading away.

  When she was twenty and first learned of Abraham’s attraction to her she dismissed him, but only because he was many years her senior. Back then, a man of twenty-seven seemed so old. She covered her mouth with her fingertips and had a quiet giggle at being concerned about seven years. Seven years was nothing now. How silly she’d been back then to wait months before she accepted his offer of a buggy ride, but she hadn't been sure what had happened to Jedidiah. Abraham knew what was on her heart, and he was a patient man. They’d been seeing each other regularly for two months when he asked her to marry him.

  She had agreed, and she had never regretted the decision.

  Their five boys would be at their father’s funeral even though only the older two had stayed on in the Amish community. It was Nell’s hope the other three would all return one day and bring their families with them. Abraham had been her strength when their younger children had left the community. To her it was the worst thing that could happen, but Abraham reminded her everything was in Gott’s hands.

  Nell’s sister, Jennifer, had made her a blue dress to wear today. It was a mid-blue tone, the same color as the dress she’d worn for her wedding. It was a kind gesture of her sister’s. Nell pulled it from her wardrobe and slipped it off the wooden hanger. The original wedding dress had doubled as her Sunday best and had worn out years ago. Had it lasted, it would’ve been way too small anyway. After so many years and five kinner, her size had increased. She wasn’t the biggest woman in the community, but she sure liked her food and wasn’t about to apologize for her appetite.

  After she took off her cotton nightgown, she pulled on the specially made dress. The fabric was soft and didn’t look as though it would wrinkle easily, which would be a timesaving blessing. After a quick look out the window, she noticed the hearse still there. John was most likely settling the bill.

  Jennifer had made her a kapp and matching apron along with the dress, but Nell decided to wear Abraham’s favorite kapp and apron—the set he’d complimented her on a few months back. They were relatively new and were also sewn by Jennifer, so her sister wouldn’t mind that she chose to wear those instead.

  After donning her apron, she walked across to her nightstand and took hold of her boar bristle brush and pulled it through her thigh-length hair. The brush was bought for her by Abraham on one of his rare trips to town. He never liked to go to the stores and only went there to purchase boots or tools. She remembered the way he’d presented her with that brush. He’d smiled as he told her it was made from boar bristles and would be good for her hair. It was their nightly routine before bed that Abraham would brush her hair in their bedroom. A special brush had been a delightful and thoughtful gift.

  She placed the brush down on Abraham’s side of the bed, and then divided her hair into two sections, tightly braiding each one before winding it and securing against her head. As she walked back to fetch her kapp, movement out the window distracted her. The funeral director and his helpers were walking out of the house, having done their job. Now, the community would take over and the coffin would be transported from her house to the gravesite in the bespoke horse-drawn funeral buggy.

  There was a sudden knock on her bedroom door. “Dat’s back, Mamm.” It was John, her eldest.

  “Denke. I'll be down in a minute.” She sighed knowing she’d miss Abraham’s smile, his warm embrace, and his constant support and encouragement. “Gott, please help me to get through this day.” She left the window and was about to push open the door of her bedroom. Instead, she was pulled back to the window, back to the rain.

  Even though she’d only been married once, she’d lost two loves in her lifetime. She lifted one hand to the window and placed her fingertips on the cold glass, causing a shiver to run through her body.

  Since Abraham had left her, she’d had a constant pang in the pit of her stomach. She covered her tummy with her hand and knew it was the gnawing pain of being alone. Solitude—it was something she’d never liked.

  Things would’ve been different if she’d had daughters, but she’d had all sons. Her granddaughter, Gloria, was now the closest person in her life, and she made up for having no daughters. But, nothing could replace the loss of a husband. Abraham had been there to cook for, and together they sat by the fire and read at night before going upstairs to their bedroom. They’d been so close, and now life would never be the same. It was hard to start anew and learn to live in solitude at this stage of her life. Starting over was for the young who were looking to bright futures, finding their way.

  Looking up into the
gray sky, she wiped a tear from her eye and then looked to the fields and trees on the misty horizon. There was a big undiscovered world out there. A world beyond the Amish community. If someone wanted to disappear they could do it so easily. That led Nell to think something she’d so often pondered; there were also innumerable places where one could hide a body. “Where are you, Jedidiah Shoneberger? Are you alive, or are you gone and your body’s still out there somewhere?”

  Chapter 2

  There was something cozy about the rain and Ettie loved watching it fall and listening to the gentle pitter-patter on the roof. Afterward, the trees and the nearby pastures were always greener and fresher.

  “Ettie, come away from the window. They'll see you for sure.” Elsa-May continued her knitting as she spoke, sitting on her usual chair.

  Ettie heard her sister babbling in the background. It was a constant noise, day in and day out. Elsa-May rarely had anything important to say and, when she ordered Ettie about in that older-sister way, it bothered her. Elsa-May should realize that once they'd reached adulthood, the older sister bossiness should’ve left. In Ettie’s eyes, they were as good as equal now. After all, they were both in their eighties. Still, she wasn’t brave enough to suggest that to Elsa-May, not yet.

  “Did you hear me, Ettie?”

  Ettie took a deep breath and had one last look at the house next door through the raindrops on the windowpane. “I heard you the first time. They won’t see me.”

  “Come away.” Her sister's voice was louder now.

  “I need to see what they're doing.” Ettie hoped if Elsa-May realized how fascinating their neighbors were to watch, she too would become interested. “He's moved the car to the bottom of the driveway, he’s parked it, and now he's going back into the house. He isn't moving fast. It seems he doesn’t care about getting wet. He doesn’t even have on a coat, or a jacket. They’re going somewhere. Where?”

  “It’s got nothing to do with us.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. What if they’re going somewhere to put in an official complaint about Snowy’s imaginary barking? Or making a complaint about the fence?”

  “Come, sit down and talk for a moment.”

  To the sound of the clickety-click of Elsa-May’s knitting needles, Ettie watched their neighbors, Greville and Stacey Charmers, hurrying out of the house next door. “Wait, something’s happening.” Stacey was trying to put up an umbrella, and Greville was literally pulling her along. “What’s the hurry, I wonder? Hmm, their last name’s Charmers. There’s nothing charming about them. Especially not him.”

  “What did you say?”

  All Ettie wanted to do was watch them, now that they were outside. And, why wasn’t Greville waiting for Stacey to raise her umbrella? He was an intolerably rude man.

  “Ettie. Are you listening to me?”

  “I’m coming. Be patient.”

  “Sit down. We've got to talk about whether we're going to Abraham’s funeral today. We don’t have much time if we’re going.”

  As Ettie moved to sit back down on the couch, her eyes traveled to the plain china clock on the mantle. It was a few minutes before nine. Elsa-May was right. If they were going to the funeral they had to get ready. “Hmm. I don't feel like going, not really. Not in this weather.”

  Elsa-May stared at Ettie while she continued her knitting and, as usual, never dropped a stitch. “There have been too many funerals lately. And I don't feel up to it.”

  “Are you ill?” Ettie half hoped she would say, “Yes,” so staying home with her older sister would be her excuse too.

  “Nee I'm not, but I don't like going to funerals because I always wonder if the next one’s going to be mine.”

  Ettie chuckled. Her sister had been saying that for years. “I think the real reason you aren’t motivated is because Jeremiah’s staying home to look after Ava with her morning sickness.”

  “She’s past that stage. She’s just feeling off. I remember the tiredness I felt when I was expecting. It’s even harder when you have a few little ones to run after. Anyway, what you said makes no sense.”

  Finally, Ettie thought. “It does?”

  “I said no sense, Ettie. Don’t tell me your hearing’s going.”

  “It does make sense, though. You like things the same all the time. You have your funny habits and you don’t like change.”

  Elsa-May stopped knitting and her jaw dropped open. “I don’t have habits.”

  Ettie chuckled. “You do. Ava and Jeremiah usually drive us to the funerals in their buggy, and now that they're not going to this one you feel uncomfortable.”

  “Don't be ridiculous. We always go everywhere by ourselves. Why would that bother me?” After she gave Ettie a disapproving scowl, she took up her knitting needles.

  Ettie twisted the strands of hair at the nape of her neck and pushed them back into her prayer kapp. If they decided to go, she’d have to pin her hair a little better. “But we don’t go to the funerals alone, just the two of us.”

  “I suppose not, but don't go making out I'm a nut case, or whatever you said about having habits. Everyone likes to have a certain routine with their life. It’s not just me. You like to do the same things every day. You have the same breakfast, and ...”

  Ettie shifted her position on the couch as she half-listened to Elsa-May drone on about what Ettie did on a daily basis. When she heard the next-door neighbors' car start up, she couldn't resist going over to the window and looking out. “They're only driving away now. That means they’ve been sitting in the car for minutes before they left. All that time we’ve been talking they were in the car not moving.”

  “Don’t let them see you,” Elsa-May hissed.

  “I'm standing back away from the window.” Ettie watched the back of the car as it traveled down their road. “He was dragging her to the car in the rain and not even giving her a chance to put up her umbrella. Come to think of it, he moved the car away from the house so she’d have further to walk in the rain.”

  “Hmm. Maybe they were having an argument about that once they got in the car.”

  “You might be right,” Ettie said.

  “There's something not right about them.”

  Ettie looked over at Elsa-May, who seldom agreed with anything she said. “Then you agree?”

  “Jah, but it's not our business and it won’t do any good you staring at them, especially if they see you. I don’t want Greville coming over here complaining about you watching them. It’s bad enough he’s already complained about Snowy. I don’t want him ever to have reason to come here again.”

  Ettie looked down at Snowy asleep in his dog bed in the corner of the room. He wasn’t normally a barker and it was odd their grumpy neighbor complained that he barked while they were out. “I suppose you're right. I don't mind staying at home today.” Ettie rubbed her chin. “I think I'll have a baking day today since we can’t possibly leave the haus.” Ettie knew if a member of their Amish community saw them, there'd be questions about why they hadn’t been at Abraham’s funeral.

  “You should. You haven't baked for a while. Cookies?”

  Cookies were fun to prepare and the house smelled wonderful once the cookies were baking in the oven. “Jah, good idea. I think I'll make a variety we haven't had in a while. I’ll go through the old recipe cards and see what I can find.”

  “Want some help?”

  Ettie was delighted her sister had offered to help in the kitchen. Normally, either one cooked or the other. “I’d like that.”

  Elsa-May put her knitting in the bag by her feet, and together they walked into the kitchen.

  After Ettie and Elsa-May had confirmed the decision not to go to Abraham’s funeral, they retrieved the box of old recipe cards from the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard. With her large frame Elsa-May pushed Ettie out of the way, divided the pile of index cards into two, and then passed half to Ettie.

  They both sat down at the table and began to leaf through the two stacks.
r />   Pulling out a yellowed card, Elsa-May said, “Here’s one for peanut butter cookies. Ah, I remember how Mamm got this recipe. Dat had them at someone’s haus and asked Mamm to get the recipe.”

  “Was it for these cookies? Dat didn’t like peanut butter,” Ettie said.

  “I’m certain it was these. Jah, I remember it as clearly as though it was yesterday.”

  Ettie didn’t agree, but after years of living with her sister she knew it was best to keep quiet about the little things. She knew their father wouldn’t have liked peanut butter cookies, and the knowing was all that mattered.

  “Why is your face screwed up like that?” Elsa-May asked. “Don’t you believe me?”

  “Um, it sounds about right. Shall we make the peanut butter ones, then?”

  “Jah, let’s do it.” With her glasses perched on the end of her nose, Elsa-May took another careful look at the recipe clutched in her hand. “We have all the ingredients.”

  “Gut. Let’s get started.”

  Elsa-May passed the card to Ettie, who fetched all the needed items and placed them on the table while Elsa-May carefully folded her glasses and then looped them over the neckline of her dress.

  Ettie sat down once everything was on the table. “You can measure the ingredients, Elsa-May.”

  Elsa-May stood and, as she dumped the measured items into the mixing bowl, she said, “Abraham was young.”

  The image of Abraham Graber popped into Ettie’s mind. He had been tall, and his once jet-black hair had rapidly faded to white in the past few years, and that, along with his pale skin, had made him ill-looking.