Dedication
To all those who have lost a loved one to Covid-19.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
Glossary
About the Author
Acclaim for Beth Wiseman
Other Books by Beth Wiseman
Copyright
One
Esther stared out the window in disbelief as her heart pounded like a bass drum.
“Lizzie, what have you done?”
Two large buses pulled into the driveway, followed by two sleek black cars—limousines, she thought they were called. Estherraised the blinds higher. “You said our guests were Englisch executives from a large produce company who planned to have meetings here.”
Lizzie scowled. “Ach, well, that’s what I thought they said.” She blew a strand of gray hair away from her face, then tucked it beneath her prayercovering. “That’s what the message on the answering machine said, and when I called the man back, he said they were comingall the way from Los Angeles, California. He asked if we had room for them to park their vehicles, and I told him we haveeighty acres. I figured they’d go back and tell their fancy friends what a wonderful gem they’d found hidden here in southernIndiana.”
Esther took a deep breath and clenched her hands at her waist. “Those Englisch folks aren’t from a produce company, Lizzie.” She turned to her younger sister. “Do you see what is written across the sidesof those buses?” She waved toward the window and sighed. “Or motor homes. Whatever they are.”
Lizzie scrunched up her face and squeezed her eyes closed, then she lifted her chin and looked at Esther. “I must have madea mistake.”
Esther shook her head. “There is a big difference between produce and production.” She pointed out the window, tapping the glass this time. “Clarkson Movie Productions, Lizzie. You didn’t give them permission to film a movie here, did you?”
“Of course not! I would have remembered something like that.” Lizzie huffed. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about. Theyare still paying customers.”
Esther raised a hand to cover her forehead. “They made reservations for twelve to stay in the main haus. Are we expected to feed all the other people in those buses and cars too? There are bound to be more than twelve, and weonly have enough groceries for those staying in the guest rooms.”
Lizzie turned away, her chin still raised. “I don’t know.”
Esther began to count as people started getting out of the vehicles. Six stepped out of the first bus—four men and two womendressed in fancy clothes. They huddled in a circle, eyeing the property from behind dark sunglasses. It was a bright sunnyday in the middle of April without a cloud in the sky. Five more people emerged from the second bus as still others beganpouring out of the black cars.
Esther glanced at Naomi and Amos, who were standing on the porch of the daadi haus, surely wondering what all the commotion was about. They’d known the inn was expecting a dozen guests, not this crowd. Naomiwas like a daughter to Esther and Lizzie. She’d lived and worked at the inn before she and Amos married the previous springand rented the small house. Gus Owens leased the third house on the property, a small cottage. Esther had seen him leave inhis rusty black truck earlier that morning. She was grateful he wasn’t here now. Gus had a disposition that warranted filtering,to say the least. He was a grumpy old man who spoke his mind no matter how rude or obnoxious his comments were.
“Look.” Esther pointed out the window again. “That man seems to be the one in charge. He’s gathered everyone around him, andhe’s doing all the talking.”
Lizzie was quiet but kept her eyes on the group. Esther stayed by her sister’s side wringing her hands. Should they go outsideand greet their new guests or wait until someone approached the house?
Finally, the man who had been talking pushed his sunglasses up on his head and started toward the front door. He looked middle-agedwith dark hair graying at his temples. His slacks were tan, and he wore the same color loafers with a short-sleeved whitecollared shirt that wasn’t tucked in.
Esther instructed Lizzie to let her do the talking, then the sisters met the man on the porch.
“Welcome to The Peony Inn.” Esther nodded and shook his hand when he extended it. The others stayed where they were, talkingamong themselves while the bus engines roared.
“Are you who I spoke to on the phone? Lizzie?” He directed the question to Esther, but Lizzie cleared her throat.
“Nee, that was me.” She tried to smile, but it was brief.
“We have rooms ready for twelve,” Esther said as she looked over the man’s shoulder. One young man stood off to the side ofthe group.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I appreciate you letting us park our RVs here. We were having trouble finding a place to accommodate allof us and the motor homes in one place.”
Esther swallowed hard. “How many should we plan to cook for? We are a bed-and-breakfast, but we usually cook three meals aday for those who rent a room.” She hoped he understood without her having to say she didn’t have enough food on hand to feedhis entire crew.
The man glanced at his phone when it beeped, then looked back at Esther. “Uh, don’t worry about meals. We’ll have food cateredin or have someone pick it up for everyone.”
Esther’s worries reversed as she thought about all the food she had stocked up, much of it produce that would go bad if noteaten. “The cost of the rooms includes the meals. Perhaps some of your group would like to eat at least part of the time.”
“We’ll see how it works out. We don’t have a set schedule.” His phone beeped again, gaining his attention for a few secondsbefore he looked back at her. “Uh, I think there will only be six people staying in the house. We’ve got room in the motorhomes for everyone else.”
Esther thought about all the work she and Lizzie had done to accommodate
