“I want you to invite Esther.”

  She must have seen the look on my face because she said, “I know you don’t like the idea because you are my friend and protective of me. But no matter what, she will be my child’s aenti. I want her to be there. I’m hopeful we’ll be able to make amends. I want her to be able to tell my child his or her aunt was there for this special day.”

  I bit the inside of my lip. Emily’s speech proved she was a better person than I was. If I were in charge, I wouldn’t invite Esther. She had a sharp tongue, and there was a high probability she would say something to intentionally hurt Emily on the day of the shower.

  “I’ll invite her,” I said.

  “Danki, Bailey. You are a gut friend.”

  I hoped that proved to be true.

  * * *

  I was a firm believer in doing the thing you least wanted to do first. It might just be part of my makeup. I prefer to rip off the Band-Aid rather than prolong the process and be delicate about it. As a chocolatier in New York City, this was a part of my personality that I had to learn to tame. To make the delectable and gorgeous treats we sold at JP Chocolates, a candy maker had to take care and have finesse. My first year working for Jean Pierre, I broke three chocolate molds because I was too impatient when removing the hardened chocolate from the forms. Jean Pierre could have and maybe should have dismissed me after the third broken mold. Instead, my mentor took me under his wing and instructed me to take a breath and calm down. That was when he shared his mantra of listing all the different kinds of chocolate. It helped quite a bit. What helped more was when the chocolate shop upgraded its forms from plastic to silicone. The silicone didn’t break.

  I recited the list now as I walked over to Esh Family Pretzels to invite Esther in person to her younger sister’s baby shower. Dark chocolate, white chocolate, milk chocolate, and . . .

  It wasn’t that I was afraid of Esther. She was a petite Amish woman who might have a sour disposition, but I knew she couldn’t do anything to me. Not really. I dreaded the visit because I knew how the outcome could impact Emily. Emily was in a fragile state at the moment, and I’d be darned if I was going to let Esther make her feel any worse about herself.

  When I walked into the Esh shop, I was relieved to find Esther alone. She stood at the counter writing on a piece of paper. She looked up from her task. Her forced friendly smile, which I knew was there only for paying customers, dissolved into a scowl.

  There was no one I knew who could scowl as fiercely as Esther Esh. If it had not been for the sour expression on her face, she would have been a very pretty woman. Perhaps she wasn’t as beautiful as Emily, who had gorgeous, honey-blond hair, glowing skin, and Disney-princess eyes, but few people were. I had no doubt that if Emily had been born English, she would have been scouted by a modeling agency by now. She was that beautiful.

  Esther had the same color hair, but her skin had a more sallow undertone, with the result that her skin and hair were too close in hue to be pleasing to the eye.

  “What do you want?” she asked as she folded the piece of paper she’d been writing on and tucked it into her apron pocket.

  I sighed. I had not spoken to Esther in a few weeks. Anytime I saw her outside of the pretzel shop and tried to strike up a conversation, she’d either walk away or duck back inside to avoid me. I wasn’t surprised that she wasn’t happy to see me in her store.

  Esther had disliked me since I’d first arrived in Holmes County. She was very traditionally Amish and believed that there should be a clear separation between English and Amish societies. Decades ago, this was much easier, but the world had become smaller for everyone. That included the Amish. As Juliet had pointed out to me the day before, now many Amish had to use cell phones and other technologies. Even if it was for business, Esther hated the changes. Hers was one of the few shops on Main Street that didn’t have a telephone. That wasn’t because her bishop didn’t allow such a convenience to run her business. There was a phone in Swissmen Sweets, and Maami and Esther had the same bishop. It was Esther’s choice. She believed having a phone at the ready blurred the lines between the English and Amish worlds. That was something she could not abide.

  Since I’d first moved to Harvest, she’d taken a particular dislike to me because she didn’t like the idea that I, an English woman, should run an Amish business. It didn’t make any difference to her that Maami was Amish. Or that my mammi and daadi had started the business and ran it themselves for decades. I’d only returned to Harvest to assist them when my daadi grew ill. I was very grateful to have had that time with him before he passed away. I’d stayed on to help my maami, and to claim my heritage. But as far as Esther was concerned, the only English people inside an Amish business should be paying customers.

  To the right of where Esther stood, by the old-fashioned cash register, was a marble countertop dusted with flour. A dozen uncooked pretzels sat under plastic wrap waiting to rise. The finished pretzels were displayed in a warmer that faced the front of the shop. I examined the display case, and my stomach rumbled. I was especially drawn to the savory pretzels. There were rosemary, pumpernickel, cracked pepper, and cheddar garlic, to name a few. I wanted one of each. There were also sweet flavors like blueberry, cinnamon, and honey. I wouldn’t turn one of those down either.

  “What are you doing here?” Esther wanted to know. “Don’t tell me you came over for a pretzel. You haven’t bought a pretzel from this shop since Emily left.”

  Nice to know that she was keeping score.

  “I would like to buy one of your cheddar pretzels,” I said. “But you’re right. That’s not the only reason I’m here. I wanted to give you an invitation to Emily’s baby shower.” I held out the invitation to her.

  She made no move to take the small yellow envelope from my hand. Charlotte—bless her—had already purchased “lemony” stationery from the shop down the street. She was taking her role in this party planning very seriously.

  Esther frowned. “You did not have to bring me the invitation yourself. You could have put it in the mail or through the mail slot in the shop door. There’s no reason for you to come here in person.”

  “Well, maybe not, but I do want that pretzel,” I said, still holding the envelope in my hand as if I was serving a court summons.

  “I’m not selling you one of my pretzels.”

  Well, that was disappointing. I’d really had my teeth set for one, as my grossdaadi would have said.

  “That’s your choice.” I held the envelope up a little higher. “But will you take the invitation? My arm is becoming tired.”

  “I think it’s time for you to leave. I have no patience for such foolishness. A baby shower for Emily? Who heard of a more ridiculous affair?”

  I wanted nothing more than to walk out of the shop and never come back, especially because I had been denied my pretzel of choice. Reminding myself that this wasn’t about me—it was about Emily—I forged ahead. “In case you don’t read it, the shower will be this Saturday at two in the afternoon at the gazebo across the street. You won’t be able to miss it. We expect most of the women from your district to be there. You might have already heard about it from a friend.”

  She wouldn’t take the envelope, so I set it on the counter. She didn’t move to touch it, but she didn’t throw it in my face either. I took that to be a good sign.

  Her lip curled. “I see that your influence on Emily has grown even more in the last few months. I should have known that it would. It seems everything that you touch you change. The few of us in this county who don’t fall for your charms should be considered lucky.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” I said, truly meaning it. All I had wanted since Emily got married was for her to make peace with her brother and sister. I wanted that because I knew it was what Emily wanted most, but it seemed to me a reconciliation would never happen if Esther continued to be so stubborn.

  “The whole idea is disgraceful.” She moved down the counter and removed the waiting pretzels from the plastic. She set them onto a tray and into the convection oven behind her to bake. Then she began cutting the remaining dough into balls that were each about the size of a nectarine.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  She didn’t look up from her work. “A baby shower? That is an Englisch celebration. It’s not something that the Amish in our district do.”

  “I know it’s not something that has happened in the district before, but the bishop knows about the party, and he sees no problem with it.”

  “He would!” She began rolling one of the balls into a long rod of dough. “But what does his wife say? I’m sure she has another opinion on the matter.”

  “I don’t know Ruth Yoder’s opinion, but I heard she was planning to come to the shower.” I didn’t add that I thought Ruth was coming mostly to make sure that the celebration wasn’t too English. Whatever “too English” might be.

  “I am saddened to hear that.” With a lightning-fast flick of her wrist, she twisted the dough into a pretzel. Her hands moved so quickly, my eyes were unable to follow the movement to see how she did it. “I would have thought that the bishop’s wife would be against any celebration due to my sister’s history.”

  I frowned. I knew what she was getting at, but I refused to take the bait.

  “Emily would really like for you to be there. She asked me to invite you. Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but this could be the chance for your splintered family to come back together.”

  “You’re right; it’s not your place to say it.” She twisted another pretzel, and I had the sneaking suspicion that she was thinking about my neck.

  I started to wonder why I was staying there any longer. I had kept my promise to Emily. I had invited her sister to the baby shower. It was clear that I wasn’t going to get that cheddar pretzel. I took a step back toward the door.

  Esther didn’t say anything. She just made two more pretzels, slapping the dough on the marble with such ferocity, I was surprised it didn’t bounce back and smack her in the face. “I’m saddened by the fact that so many people in the district are blind to what you are doing.”

  Against my better judgment, I stopped inching toward the door. “What I’m doing? I’m not doing anything other than throwing a party for my dear friend to celebrate her baby. I can’t imagine that anyone would see my actions as anything more than that.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You are leading the young and naïve away from the faith, so that they will become Englisch like you. It starts with small ideas like this, a baby shower. And then it moves on to cell phones and cars. Before you know it, the Amish society that has existed for hundreds of years is in shambles.” She paused. “All because well-meaning Englischers like you think they are being nice.”

  I stared at her. “I think you’re giving me way more credit than I’m due.”

  “That’s how it starts,” she said.

  I frowned. I didn’t even know why I was bothering to argue with her. Esther and I would never see eye to eye on this matter, just as we had never seen eye to eye on anything.

  “Emily is your sister, and she specifically asked me to invite you. I’ve done my duty. Now it’s up to you whether or not you decide to come. The ball is in your court.”

  She glared at me, and I turned to go. I’d almost reached the door when it opened and a tall man with reddish-blond hair filled the frame. He ducked his head slightly to step into the shop.

  Despite myself, my stomach tightened. I was trapped inside Esh Family Pretzels between grumpy Esther and her even grumpier brother, Abel. I should have just tucked the invitation through the mail slot as Esther had said.

  Abel would have been as handsome as Emily was beautiful if it were not for his nasty disposition. In all the time I’d been living in Harvest, I had never once seen him smile. Grin and sneer, sure. Smile, nope.

  Abel had a particular dislike for me, going all the way back to childhood. Growing up, I spent my summers in Amish Country visiting my grandparents. When I’d been a tween, Abel had had a crush on me, and I rebuffed his advances. I’d told him that I liked a boy at my school back in Connecticut. I would have thought a grudge like that would be quickly forgotten. Not in this case. It seemed that Abel had a long memory and had held onto those hurt feelings for nearly twenty years. In different circumstances, I would’ve found that kind of determination admirable.

  No one knew what Abel did for work. It was well-known in the village that Esther ran the pretzel shop by herself. Which was why she was still bitter about Emily leaving the family business to work for me. That betrayal was made even worse when Emily married Daniel Keim. With Emily’s wedding, Esther really thought that she’d lost her younger sister. She might’ve been able to convince Emily to leave the candy shop, but there was no hope of getting her to leave her husband. As for her brother, Abel, there were whispers in the village that he was involved in some underhanded dealings. However, no one could prove anything other than that he occasionally partook of illegal moonshine.

  “Hello, Bailey,” Abel said. “It’s a great surprise to find you in our shop. What are you doing here? Do you have another murder to solve? How very odd that Aiden Brody needs a candy maker to help him with his cases. That does not speak well of the Sheriff’s Department.”

  I scowled. “I was just chatting with Esther, but I’m on my way out.” There was no point getting into a conversation with Abel unless it was absolutely necessary. Thank goodness I didn’t have to invite him to the shower.

  He made no attempt to move.

  “Can you step aside please?” I asked.

  He took one step to the right, but it wasn’t far enough away that I could avoid brushing against him when I tried to leave. The urge to push him out of the way was almost overwhelming.

  I slipped past him and walked the few yards to Swissmen Sweets, instinctively brushing off the arm of my coat. Against my better judgment, I looked over my shoulder at the pretzel shop and saw Abel watching me from the doorway with a smirk on his face. Abel Esh gave me the creeps. There were no two ways about it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  What I had come to learn since moving to Ohio was that fine spring days were fleeting. The Midwest seemed to go from the dark days of winter to the humid days of summer in the blink of an eye. There were only a handful of lovely spring days when you could wear just about anything out in the sun and be comfortable.

  The day of Emily’s baby shower was one of those perfect spring days. Because Charlotte had begged to take over the planning, I had let her run with it. Whenever I asked her if she needed help or wondered what she had planned for the party, she waved me away and assured me that she and Juliet had it well in hand. The control freak in me had to let it go. Not easy, but I did my best.

  I’d even convinced myself that I wasn’t worried about the shower at all until that afternoon, when I arrived on the square just thirty minutes before it was set to begin. Charlotte had insisted that I wasn’t to come a moment sooner than that. I think she was afraid I might take over. I had a reputation for taking charge of things. As I walked across Main Street from Swissmen Sweets to the other side of the village square, I was more than a little nervous to see how Charlotte and Juliet had pulled it all off.

  I reminded myself that Emily and the Amish women attending the party had never been to a baby shower before and therefore wouldn’t know if anything was amiss.

  When I came around the side of the gazebo, I realized that I didn’t have any reason to worry. Everything was done. Folding tables and chairs had been set out for the guests. Every table was covered with a linen tablecloth, and glass bowls of lemons and white daisies served as centerpieces. The chairs had been covered with yellow seat covers. There was another table with a yellow linen tablecloth lined with sweets from the candy shop, small sandwiches, veggies and dip, tiny tarts, and every lemon-flavored treat that I could imagine. It even had the lemon drops that Charlotte promised.

  Charlotte came up to me. A strand of her red hair fell out of the Amish bun at the nape of her neck. She held her hands in front of her, nervously waiting for my verdict. “What do you think?”

  “Charlotte, this is amazing,” I said. “I don’t know what to say, other than great job.”

  She smiled and smoothed the skirt of her lavender dress. “Oh, I’m so pleased that you like it. I want to make Emily happy, of course, but I really wanted to show you what I can do.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “Do you think that I don’t give you enough to do? I mean in the way of creative work?”

  “I’m not sure that you would give me any work at all if you didn’t have your television show in New York, but I have been working at the shop for a long while now. I’m in my second year. I want more responsibility.” She looked around the party with a smile. “I can do things like this.”

  “I—I didn’t know that was something you wanted, but I’d be happy to talk to you about it. When Emily is on maternity leave, I’ll need a lot more help. I was thinking of hiring more staff.”

  “Before you do that, let’s see what I can do to help,” she said. “I have some new ideas about the shop. I think there are many ways that we could shift things around to free up more time for you and your other projects.”

  I blinked. “Okay. I’m happy to hear them.”

  She nodded, grabbed the stray lock of hair, and with a twist secured it in the knot.

  I smiled. “Charlotte, you are becoming quite a businesswoman.”

  She didn’t smile. “I’ve just been thinking a lot the last several months about what I want my life to look like. I’m not sure about most things, but I know I love working at the candy shop and want to keep doing that as long as you and Cousin Clara will have me.” She looked around. “Are you sure you like it?”

  Some of the confidence she’d showed when she’d given her speech about wanting to do more in the business faded away.

  “I do like it. It’s exactly how I would do it. Emily will be so pleased. I can’t believe you did all this.”