Posen, Michigan

Finally, he arrived.

Catherine Glick placed the jar of pickled eggs on the serving table, then pretended to straighten the other dishes so she could spy Zachariah Lantz pressing through the crowded entryway of The Amish Table restaurant.

Removing his snow-covered coat, Zach looked her direction and smiled. Even from across the crowded room, his deep blue eyes had a way of warming her insides and melting the balled-up tension. Thoughts of him sliding into the ditch somewhere had invaded her mind. Sure, icy roads were typical this time of the year in northern Michigan, and Zach owned an exceptional horse, but not knowing if her boyfriend of nearly five years was stranded someplace had knotted her muscles. Now it didn't matter how much snow accumulated. Zach was here, safe, and just in time for their district's New Year's Eve supper.

Catherine stepped away from the food table to greet Zach at the door but was stopped when his sister, Mary, sidled up beside her, a vegetable tray in her hands.

"I see mei bruder finally made it."

Catherine smiled. "Better late than never."

Mary set the tray on the table. "You'd think being a clockmaker he would pay more attention to all those chiming reminders around him in the shop and be on time."

"Jah, you'd think," Catherine echoed while following Zach with her gaze as he joined the other unmarried men in the corner of the room. He was a talented clockmaker, meticulous with details, but he was certainly not a timekeeper. He'd missed several functions in the past, citing work-related reasons. But she wasn't about to complain about his punctuality now and ruin this fine evening. Her heart had been pounding with anticipation of their sleigh ride home tonight.

The women filed out of the kitchen, carrying various plates and bowls of food to put on the long buffet table. Roasted turkey, sliced pineapple ham, sauerkraut and pork, and venison made up the meats, and yummasetti, baked yams, mashed potatoes, green beans, and peas made up the side dishes. The feast was like Christmas all over again. Even the children had flocked to the cheese and pickle trays, their tiny hands snitching a few samples before the meal was blessed, while their mothers hovered nearby, chiding them for their actions.

A niggle of jealousy stabbed Catherine's heart. One day she would have a few sticky-fingered culprits to wag her finger at. Of course, she'd told herself one day for years and it hadn't changed the fact that at twenty-nine, she was the oldest maedel in her district.

Don't dwell on such negativity. Everything could change after tonight's sleigh ride. She wrung her hands, suddenly eager for the meal to get started and, more importantly, for it to end.

The bishop's wife, Alice Zook, was the last to come out of the kitchen. She placed a steaming dish of brown gravy on the table, then nodded at her husband, who stepped forward.

Bishop Zook cleared his throat, signaling everyone's attention. "Shall we bow our heads and ask the Lord's blessing over this wunderbaar food the women have prepared?"

Catherine closed her eyes. I know You hold the future, Lord. I pray it's Your will that Zach wants to include me in his future.

The bell over the door jingled, and a gust of cold air sent a shiver down her spine. Boots stomped, muffling the tune the latecomer whistled as he entered. Catherine didn't have to open her eyes to know who it was. She recognized the man by his off-pitch tune.

Elijah Graber.

The latecomer blew into his fisted hands. His hat, coat, scarf, and pants below the knees were snow covered. As Elijah stood at the entry, his gaze flitted across the room and stopped on Catherine.

Sharpness seized her breath. After six years, why would he search her out in the crowd first? Years of wondering what it would feel like to see him again flooded her senses, and for the split second that their gazes connected, everyone else in the room disappeared.

Rein it in. You feel nothing. Nothing.

Catherine narrowed her eyes on the man. At least be respectful of others, Elijah, and bow your head.

As if reading her thoughts, he dropped his hands to his side and lowered his head for the final seconds of the blessing.

Once the bishop cleared his throat again, his way of signaling the end of the silent prayer, conversations and activity around the room resumed. Except for Catherine who was frozen in place.

Elijah shivered and snow fell from the brim of his straw hat. Removing the knitted scarf from around his neck exposed his big red ears, which contrasted with the pale, purplish tinge on his lips. But what caught her off guard was his beard.

She focused on the puddle that had formed from his stomping snow off his boots, a hazard that needed to be addressed immediately. As other members greeted Elijah, Catherine dashed into the kitchen, grabbed the mop from the utility closet, then returned to the dining room.

Still standing at the front door, Elijah looked up from brushing snow off his pant legs as she approached. "Hiya, Cat." He smiled as if there'd never been a moment of distance between them.

Before she had the chance to return a formal greeting, Bishop Zook came up to Elijah and patted his shoulder. "It's gut to see you again, Elijah."

"Same here."

The bishop glanced at Catherine a brief second, then continued.

"I trust your trip to Posen went well."

"The roads were snowy, and for a while there was talk that Mackinac Bridge might close due to high winds, but we made it fine."

"How long will you be staying?"

This time it was Elijah who looked at her uncomfortably. "I'm, ah, nett sure."

This was agonizing. She expected any conversation she might have with Elijah to be stilted, but she hadn't expected Bishop Zook to guard his words. Why didn't he just go ahead and ask Elijah about his wife and children?

"Again, it's gut to have you home. Hopefully we'll have a chance to talk more later." Bishop Zook motioned to the table of food. "Nau don't be a stranger. Jump in line and fill your plate while the food is hot."

"Jah, I'll be sure to join you shortly."

Once the bishop left to rejoin some of the other married men, Catherine mopped up the trail of water he tracked across the floor. Elijah hadn't moved from the doorway when she went back to finish cleaning up the entrance area.

Elijah lifted one snowy boot, then the other. "I made a mess, didn't I? Would you like me to mop it up?"

"Nay. I'll get this." She motioned to the other married men filling their plates. "You should go eat. I'm sure a hot meal and mug of kaffi will warm you up."

"That's nice of you to be concerned. I've been meaning all week to stop by your haus and say hello."

All week? Catherine harrumphed. "It's a little late to tell me you got married."

He scratched his whiskered jaw. "Jah, I've been meaning to —"

She glared.

"It's a long story."

"I'm sure." Obviously he hadn't changed. He was always itching to tell long stories. Well, this time she wasn't interested. Six years ago when he'd told her he needed to visit an out-of-town friend, she hadn't expected to read in The Budget newspaper a few weeks later that he'd gotten married. She redirected her attention to...